The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2
by SGreenD
Summary: Alternatively titled "The Inside Woman". Life in Frankfort takes its course for Devil and Nina, and Devil finally does what he was sent there for: Make friends. - Season 3 AU.
1. Chapter 1

And here it is. The moment we've all been waiting for. (Or at least ME.) I know it took terribly long. See, this part differs slightly from Part 1 in a few respects, the most prominent one being that I'm not solely writing from Devil's POV any more. Now there are quite a few passages from Nina's POV, as well. And I guess that switching from one POV to another, especially if it's between a male and a female, just made it a bit more difficult for me.

Or maybe these are all just excuses. I'm lazy, what can I say? Anyhow, it's almost finished now, and I can't wait any longer, I wanna post it. So, the usual beforehand.

This story is not as violent as Part 1, so there won't be any need for a warning at the beginning of each and every chapter. If there's anything worth warning about, I'll mention it, no worries. There is still a lot of explicit language, as is my custom.

Disclaimer: Neither Justified nor any of its characters belong to me and I am not making any money with this. (This disclaimer goes for "This is where I come in", too, where I forgot to mention it. Shit happens.)

One other thing I need to say: On August 20th in 2013** Elmore Leonard**, author of "Fire in the hole" and indirect originator of "Justified", passed away. A great mind has left the world whose genius will live on forever in the great works he blessed the world with. Hence, I am dedicating this story to his memory.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2

The Inside Woman

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

"You wanted to leave?"

"I… yeah."

"I think we need to talk."

* * *

"So you work for the Dixie Mafia."

"Not sure right now if I still do, but yeah, I did."

"And you… what did you do for them?"

"Sometimes I roughed people up, you know, kinda like, you better get the money or else I'mma break your legs, that kinda stuff."

"And did you actually break their legs?"

"… yeah. Sometimes. Sometimes I beat 'em up. Sometimes I shot 'em. Just hurt 'em. Though, there was this one time where I just couldn't do it. I mean, I'm aware of how pointless that exercise is, just cause I break their legs they ain't gon' start shittin' money, you know."

"But still you did it."

"Yeah."

"But. Why?"

"Cause it got me money. I need money. Everybody does."

"But, like, you could get a regular job, Devil, you ain't stupid."

"I know I probably could, I just… it just wasn't ever an option. I had one regular job, and that was the mines when I was 18 and you ain't gettin' much better when you live in Harlan. I left as soon as I could and just… made my money in crime as it came. I never learned anythin' else."

"So you're a criminal."

"Yes."

"A real one?"

"What d'you mean, a real one? Do I need, like, a certificate?"

"Were you ever… arrested?"

"Well, yeah, of course."

"How many times?"

"Oh, I dunno, a few. I didn't keep count."

"Oh… kay. Were you ever, uhm, in jail?"

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

"Well, the first time-"

"There was more than one time?"

"Yes. Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I interrupted you. This is just… this just came as kind of a shock to me."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"So, the first time."

"…was three months. Physical assault."

"What happened?"

"Guy slept with the first chick I thought I was in love with, and I had kind of a rage black-out and beat him into a coma."

"Jesus. And you only got three months for that?"

"After two months he woke up and dropped the charges. Took a month of bureaucratic mess to get me out."

"Okay. And the second time?"

"Eight months for sellin' dope."

"Oh. Okay. That ain't so bad, right?"

"Tell that to them judges."

"And… what else did you do? I mean, for the Dixie Mafia?"

"I, uh…"

"Devil?"

"I'm sorry. I ain't got no clue how to say this."

"Devil, you're startin' to scare me."

"Maybe you… Shit."

"Devil."

"…"

"Devil, did you ever kill anyone?"

"…yeah. I did."

"Then tell me about it."

"Are you sure?"

"I asked. You said you'd tell me. Now we both have to live with that, I guess. So tell me."

"…"

"I can handle it. Trust me."

"Well… there was this one time. I had to do it. I had no choice. Funny woulda been killed if I hadn't shot those two assholes. Or, at least the one. The other guy was… well, I acted on autopilot there."

"So you had to do it?"

"Funny woulda been killed. I just… if he hadn't been standin' there, I might've not done it, I might've just watched, but Funny was standin' right in the line of fire. I just didn't know what else to do."

"Do you regret it?"

"Honestly?"

"Please."

"No. I mean I hated every second of it, but no, I don't regret it."

"Was… there another time?"

"Yeah. There was. I can't really… uhm. You remember that one time when I came home soakin' wet and totally out of it?"

"Of course."

"I said that I'd had to do somethin' I didn't wanna do that fucked me up."

"Yeah…"

"That was all because of that, what I did. That… murder."

"What happened?"

"I needed to kill a… woman. No, wait, just listen. I was told to kill her, or secrets woulda been told, secrets that woulda gotten me killed, or sent me to spend the rest of my life in a prison cell. And I didn't want neither of that. I know, a better person mighta said, fuck that, I'mma let myself get arrested before I kill someone. But I didn't, and anyway it wasn't the first time I killed someone either."

"How many people have you killed?"

"Eight… a part of me died the first time, I was so fuckin' scared, but it gets easier after that."

"Was it easy with that… woman?"

"No. Hell. NO. It was… I… I looked her in the eyes while she died. And then it hit me. I'd never really understood, you know, what it fuckin' entails when you kill someone, I never thought it through till the end, but right at that moment, it hit me, Nina. It was the most terrifyin', most terrible motherfuckin' thing I've ever done. And I don't ever wanna do it again."

"Do you regret that?"

"I don't know, Nina. I just don't know. I ain't got no motherfuckin' idea about what I'm thinkin' on that. Do I regret it? Maybe? I mean, I know I should, but it ain't that easy."

"No, it ain't."

"Just, I know this gotta be majorly fucked up for you right now, Nina, and I'm sorry I'm just droppin' this shit on you."

"I asked. I want to know. Nothin' to feel sorry about."

"Just don't think I'm a psychopath or somethin'. I ain't Dexter, is what I'm tryin' to say. It, I, I said it gets easier, but that don't make it… easy. It's never… easy. It was when it suddenly started gettin' easy that I had this total mental shutdown and, like, panic attack in my truck on the side of the road in a motherfuckin' thunderstorm. Cause I don't wanna be like that. I don't wanna be Dexter. I wanna be me."

"Does it follow you around? What you did?"

"Every second of every day."

"Will you get over it?"

"Babe, only time will tell."

"God… Devil."

"Babe? Nina? Why are you cryin'?"

"Cause I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so, SO sorry… all this time, I had no idea what you were doin' and how hard it was on you, and now you get STABBED and I spring this big talk on you… GOD. Shit. I'm sorry."

"Nina. Are you scared now? I mean, of me?"

"Not… really. I… I don't know. I just, I'm not sure I wanna talk about this ever again."

"We don't have to."

"But I won't ignore it, either. Or forget it."

"I ain't askin' you to."

"…this is crazy, right?"

"More like batshit insane."

"So… how did you get shot? And by whom?"

* * *

"_I'm naked, I'm numb/I'm stupid, I'm staying/and if Cupid's got a gun/then he's shooting."_

* * *

The heat had built itself up until it was too hot to move, until even breathing became a strain, and then, in the afternoon, it unloaded itself in yet another thunderstorm. Nina had anticipated it all day, and she'd known the exact moment it would strike: The sky, already dark, darkened just that bit more, and the wind picked up a brutal pace that would inevitably cost the lives of a few trees in the area. The temperature dropped several degrees, although from where Nina was lying on the couch, watching the clouds rush by like they were in a hurry to get somewhere, she did not feel it. The only thing she felt was Devil's warm body pressed against her back. It was a familiar feeling that had, over night, turned into something entirely new and alien, and still it somehow stayed the same.

Devil was not suddenly another person. He was that same guy that she'd let into her life on a whim, and not once had she regretted it. Nina had always been aware there were secrets going along with that man, she just hadn't been aware to what extent these secrets reached.

Nina Romano was 20 years old when she moved out of her mother's flat. She'd had her job as a secretary for a company that produced washing machines in Louisville for almost a year at that point, but she had been too afraid of the world to live on her own. Barbara Romano, her mother, and Nina had never had a close relationship. Nina had been the product of a one-night-stand with a man Barbara had never seen again, and although she'd never said it outright it was still obvious that she resented her daughter's existence. Knowing that your existence was a resented, regretted mistake did not necessarily do wonders for your self-esteem, as Nina had yet to realize. It was why she thought meeting Nicholas Samberg and moving in with him after only six months of relationship was a blessing that would get her out of her mother's clutches. At the very least it would spare her the yearly summer trips to Helena Valley and the local snobs' disdain.

Nick was a nice guy with a cool job at a local radio station who had a knack for wearing polo shirts, which in itself was not a problem worth discussion. After the first few months of living with him Nina only began to see the problems that really should have been discussed – the verbal abuse that never actually turned physical and still felt like a blow every time Nick delivered one of his barbs that did nothing to strengthen Nina's already damaged self-respect. The uncalled for jealousy, the accusations, the control. She stayed with him because it was easier that way, and because an ugly little thing inside her head and heart had set up camp that whispered to her about how she did not deserve any better anyways, so why try?

It stayed that way for years, and, as life had the capacity, Nina's existence seemingly evened out until her relationship was a normal one, until her mother's hate was just another problem anyone could have had with their parents, and Nina accepted it all, took it in stride. She'd lost contact to most of her high school friends, most of whom had gone to college, something Nina's mother had never encouraged, and made to climb the social ladder. Nina was close to a few of her colleagues, but it didn't get further than having lunch break together. Really Nick was all she had, and she did not think twice about giving him up.

She never did. Not until that one night in August.

* * *

_Dinner with her mother had been hell, as always. Nina asked herself every damn time why she subjected herself willingly to such torture when she knew the outcome beforehand, because dinner with Barbara always, ALWAYS ended the same way: With Nina throwing some cash on the table in whatever restaurant Barbara wanted to eat at and storming out the doors. Barbara Romano was a pitiable old woman who'd had a child she'd never wanted that at all times been made aware of what a burden she was to her mother's dreams. And still on every Mother's day and every birthday Barbara demanded her daughter's attention and money, saying, "I raised you, I made you what you are today, and you OWE me for that"._

_The concept of demanding something from someone you were supposed to love, and begrudging that someone the few good things they had in life, was not something Nina could or would ever understand. It broke her heart a bit more every time her mother said these things in Nina's face. And still, after a few months of not talking she would start thinking about how family was family and you needed to stick with that._

_Hence, every few months Nina made the same mistake, over and over again. Maybe she was a bit masochistic. At least she couldn't think of another explanation for it._

_Nina had told Nick she would be back at around 9 pm. Usually she was able to subject to her mother's abuse for at least an hour and a half. That fateful day, her fuse was considerably shortened, for whatever reason, and Nina was back at Nick's and her flat a few minutes to 8. She opened the door still quietly fuming, tears of rage in her eyes, trying to blink them away before facing Nick who always called her a sissy and told her to suck it up when she was crying. She was so lost in thought she was completely convinced the picture before her in her own flat was just a hallucination, just a bad dream._

_It did register, after a few seconds of stunned silence, that the woman currently sitting in Nick's lap was in fact not a hallucination, and that she was also in fact very naked and not just dressed in beige clothing from head to toe. Nick was naked, too. The rest of the story fitted itself together without further ado. _

"_Nick?" Nina asked quietly, face and voice void of any emotion but blatant surprise._

"_Is that your girlfriend?" the naked girl asked then, at the same time that Nick said:_

"_Shit… Nina. I thought you're gonna be gone till, like…"_

_It shook Nina out of her coma-like state. "Nick?" she asked again, more forcefully this time. "Nick? What the FUCK. What the FUCK is this?"_

"_Uh, uhm, uh, I, well, look-"_

"_Oh, OH, I'm lookin' at you, and all I'm seein' is some worthless piece of shit with a faceless tramp in his lap."_

"_Baby-"_

"_Hey now-"_

"_Get the fuck outta here, both of you!" Nina shouted, and it felt so good, so relieving, because Nina rarely ever screamed, and the rage that had been boiling under the surface ever since she'd left her mother at that table in whatever restaurant it had been that night was overflowing, going everywhere, out of Nina's control. "Out, out, for fuck's sake!"_

"_Nina-" Nick tried desperately to get a word in, he had to be wondering where the hell his meek, enduring girlfriend had disappeared to. _

"_Shut the fuck up! I don't wanna hear it, whatever it is…" Nina's voice broke as she couldn't stop the tears anymore. Sobbing, she stood in the living room, while the faceless tramp pulled on her clothes, looking vaguely uncomfortable about the situation she'd caused. She left, and Nick snatched his boxers from the pile of clothes on the ground and stood himself in front of Nina, knowing this was the moment where he only had to say a few soothing words and indirectly remind her that he was all she had, and Nina would pull herself together and be his girlfriend again, because that was how it had always been for the last four years. _

_And Nina was thinking about it, or at least the ugly little thing inside her was. But this time, it was too little, and too ugly, and Nina just overheard it. She didn't hear anything but blood rushing in her ears. Never in her life had she been this angry._

"_Come on, baby, calm down, huh? It ain't that-"_

_He didn't get any further. Nina took a swing and slapped him so hard across the face he actually stumbled and landed on the sofa, a hand shooting to his bleeding nose. Nina's hand would continue to sting for the next thirty minutes, and it was a pain she relished._

"_You shut the fuck up. You ain't never gonna talk to me again. I don't ever wanna SEE you again. I'mma leave now" Nina said, slowly, like Nick was too retarded to follow her otherwise, "and when I come back, you're gonna be GONE, forever, or I'm gonna kill you."_

_Blind with fury and hurt, she even meant it that way: Right at this moment, she COULD have killed him, without an ounce of hesitation or regret. On her way out, she slammed the door so hard bits of plaster broke out of the wall and ceiling in the hallway, and the resounding bang echoed throughout the entire building. It was as satisfying as the sting in her hand._

_That righteous satisfaction started to ebb away as soon as Nina was back on the street. The sun was still up, but the streets were already emptying. Her hand hurt, her heart was pounding, and in a matter of seconds, her entire life had changed. The apartment buildings around her appeared twice as big as they actually were. Nina felt small, and so, so alone. She still had nowhere for her fury to go. Nina herself had nowhere to go. She could not, under no circumstances, go back to that flat now. There was just no way she would be able to stand it without losing her mind. Her mental state had been fragile to begin with. This had been the last straw. Actually Nina felt a bit dizzy. She sat herself down on the front steps for a minute and tried to calm her breathing._

_Then Nina stood up. She had nowhere to go, so she just turned in one direction and started walking. She had nothing, and she was headed nowhere, and she felt like she could have just disappeared and it would have hurt nobody, least of all herself._

_Losing track of time, she walked several blocks before just sitting herself on the sidewalk, burying her face in her hands, and crying. _

_It took Nina a long time to calm down. There was too much to cry over, too much to list it all. She couldn't bring an order into her feelings, couldn't decipher what hurt the most. She just felt alone in the world, and cried for herself, for being so stupid to even stay with Nick, to keep in contact with her mother even though she knew it would end up getting her hurt. If the only people you cared about treated you like shit, what was there to do, what reason was there to not have the ground open up and swallow you whole?_

_The sun was thinking about setting when Nina lifted her head and took in her surroundings properly for the first time. She was sitting on the sidewalk in front of a bar, with a red door and a blue, flashy sign above it that said "Bar". You couldn't get more pragmatic than that. It hinted to an efficiency behind that concept that Nina was more and more partial to. With the kind of night she'd had, a few drinks could not hurt. She rarely drank. She rarely ever shouted, either, and she'd already done one out of those two tonight._

_The bar was small, with a few closed-off booths and one long counter currently occupied by a few sad figures that looked as lost and depressed as Nina felt. She just sat herself on one random barstool, next to the guy who was the least creepy, and even he still gave her all sorts of bad vibes. The bartender looked her up and down, deciding she had to be confused to set foot in this establishment that she so obviously did not belong in._

"_What can I do for you, sis?" he said after a moment of scrutiny, throwing a dishtowel over his shoulder._

"_Alcohol" Nina answered, decisive. "I need alcohol."_

"_You gonna get more specific?"_

"_I dunno. Just somethin' with a lot of alcohol. I need to get drunk."_

_The guy next to her snorted, seemingly having listened in on their conversation._

"_Try the bourbon, girl" he said, slurring quite a bit already. "If you ain't got no standards, that piss's da way to go."_

_The bartender frowned at him, offended. "I think you've had enough, bro."_

"_Nope. Have not. I still remember." With that the guy tapped his empty glass and lay his head on crossed arms, sighing a heavy sigh. Nina looked at him, had looked at him while he was talking to the bartender, and she saw bruises on his arm and a defeated slump to his shoulders. He had a lot of tattoos, something Nina did not usually find attractive. And was that blood on his shirt?_

"_I'mma take bourbon, then" she shrugged, and the bartender rolled his eyes, but poured some for her anyway, filling up the guy's glass as he went._

_Nina swallowed the whole two fingers of bourbon in one go, coughing afterwards, because holy fuck, it was disgusting, and then asked the bartender for a refill. The stuff tasted vile, but it warmed her up from the inside, and after downing the second round, she felt a little looser already. Breathing became easier again, and she looked at her neighbor. He had his head resting on one bruised forearm, his free hand playing idly with his half-filled glass of brown liquid. _

"_Are you alright?" Nina asked him, and the guy started laughing, a rough, unhappy sound._

"_No" he answered and downed his bourbon, waving for the bartender. _

"_Me neither."_

"_What's a hot thing like you doin' here anyway? Half a'the guys still able to see straight are checkin' you out. I'd be careful if I were you… lucky for you, I ain't."_

"_I wanted to get drunk." It was all the explanation Nina offered, and he didn't ask further. _

"_Hi, I'm Nina" she said on a whim._

"_Okay."_

"_D'you wanna talk?"_

_Snort. "Bout what?"_

"_I dunno. Just, you look as lonely as I'm feelin', maybe we can help each other out."_

"_I doubt it."_

"_We can try."_

_He shrugged carelessly._

"_So what's your name?"_

"_Devil."_

* * *

Devil snored once, loudly, behind her, pulling Nina out of her trip down memory lane. She remembered that night like it was yesterday, all that pent-up anger and devastation she'd felt. Nina had only had sex with Nick up until that night. She'd had no idea how it would be with somebody else. But she'd been so angry, and so hurt, and feeling so reckless, that she'd thought she would be willing to try.

Hence, after about an hour of slurred conversation, she'd decided to take that creepy, tattooed guy who called himself Devil and was desperately trying to forget something home with her. Of course the night was a mess. He came very quickly and fell asleep on top of her, and Nina wondered what the difference was. But in the morning, when Nina met the sober Devil in the sunlight and noticed that, not only did he have a gunshot wound to the side, but also he had beautiful, vibrant blue eyes and an endearingly crooked smile, and the tattoos looked good on him, too, she was convinced she'd made quite the catch there last night. He had to think the same because he invited her to a second, proper date. And then it all just went from there.

Nina felt Devil's deep, regular breath against her neck as he slept. They'd been up until 7 am, doing nothing but talking, Devil basically telling her his entire life, only leaving out details that would have endangered Nina, and Nina was still shocked that Devil had details that could cost somebody their lives in the first place. There were quite a lot of things Nina had learned that shocked her still. But at the same time, she was aware that Devil was not suddenly an entirely different person, just because now she knew more about him.

Nina knew she should be afraid, because when the man you've declared to be your boyfriend, the man you've let into your home, life and bed, confessed to be a murderer of eight people, that was what you should feel: Fear. Repulsion. And to a certain extent, that was what Nina felt when she thought about the idea of murder.

But the keyword here was: IDEA. Because that was what it was. Just an idea. Until you either committed it yourself or were present while somebody else did, murder was just an idea, an abstract image of ending a life and enforcing what nature would eventually take care of herself.

So until Nina witnessed Devil actually doing it, she was not able to really grasp the idea of him being a murderer, for it, albeit a fact, stated by Devil himself, was nothing but an idea to her and she could not help but distance herself and the man she was with from this. It was pure ignorance on some part, and Nina knew it. But did that automatically make it wrong?

Nina and Devil had fallen asleep in the early hours, and Nina enjoyed the time she got to spend with him after he'd almost left the night before. She'd taken several days off from work, and now she was glad about it. They'd spent most of the day in bed or on the couch watching nonsense TV, without any sex, though, because Devil was seriously injured. You didn't get forty-two stitches to hold your back together and just bounced back from that a day later. Most likely that was why he had fallen asleep again; Nina recalled Devil telling her about how, in the weeks after he'd gotten shot, he'd spend all of the time he did not work or eat with sleeping, and that he guessed his body had just needed the rest to heal.

It was not just Devil's body that needed healing, Nina saw that. So the first girl he had been in love with had cheated on him, as well. It was good to know her and Devil had that in common, it meant they would likely never be cruel enough to do that to one another. They were damaged goods, she reckoned, although with all the baggage she was carrying around, Devil was still far more damaged than her. All the things he'd told her, and as terrible as most of them were, the only thing that really got through to Nina was how helpless and alone and terrified Devil had to have felt while going through them.

Rain drummed on the windows. Nina grasped Devil's hand that lay loosely on her hip, carefully so he wouldn't wake up. Maybe he would never fully heal again, but Nina hoped that at the very least she would be able to help it along. He'd helped her in that short time that they'd known each other, more than he would know. All Nina wanted to do in that moment was to somehow return the favor.

* * *

You noticed the changes? This chapter was essentially entirely from Nina's POV, and there was a flashback in there, too. I've wanted to try something new, and the initial idea I had for The Penny, before I decided to split it into three parts, which made that idea invalid, was to tell the entire story in flashbacks. (I know. It wouldn't have worked out.) So, when I started brooding over how to set up Part 2, I had the idea of delving into Nina's past, letting her tell her story, and also memorable moments of her life with Devil from Part 1. That's what the flashbacks are for. This Part is after all called "The Inside Woman", and that woman is Nina.

This is also the first time I've written anything in italics for this site. I just thought, if I really do flashbacks that have actually happened three months in the past, they should be clearly differentiated from the present actions. I converted my M-Word documents into OpenOffice, cause, you know what it says in the notes on compatible files, that OpenOffice is highly recommended. I'm curious to see how that works out.

Thanks for reading. There's plenty more to come!


	2. Chapter 2

Here goes chapter 2. I'm trying to keep up the same posting pace as I did with Part 1. I just hate it when I have to wait for something I'm really looking forward to, and I've worked on this thing for so long, I just want to get it out there.

One other thing that was new (and most likely won't happen again) in the first chapter is the song quote. It's from the song "Until we bleed" by Kleerup with Lykke Li, you might know it from Misfits Season 1. I was listening to that song on repeat while writing most of that chapter, especially the flashback part, and this line just sorta stuck with me throughout it. Just goes to show how cruel love can be, or what you might think of as love, anyway. The "I'm stupid, I'm staying" part in particular just seemed to describe Nina's predicament perfectly.

This chapter, though, is all Devil. Duffy makes his entrance, and where he goes, Mike ain't far.

Also, I am not a medic and therefore have no knowledge whatsoever about subcutaneous stitches and/or clinical shock, so I apologize for any and all mistakes I may have made.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2

The Inside Woman

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

"Ow, for God's sake, watch it!"

"Sorry, I'm sorry" the doctor said, not sounding like he meant it. Devil frowned and laid his head back on the couch. He was lying in the living room of Keegan's CAG flat, face down in the cushions, while a doctor sent by Wynn Duffy removed the stitches from his back, being not as careful about it as Devil would have liked.

Keegan had called him this morning, saying there was a doctor here who wanted to treat him. Devil had wondered how he was gonna get those stitches out, opting for having Nina do it, or maybe Keegan if he wasn't too high; hell, Devil would have done it himself, it wouldn't have been the first time, but with the cut starting only two inches above the base of his spine and wandering to his waist in a slight arch, the angle was too awkward for him to see what he was doing. He certainly had not expected that doctor to show up out of nowhere, and he was even more surprised to hear the man had been ordered to do it by Wynn Duffy.

The last contact Devil had had with Duffy had been a week ago when Duffy called him to ask about who would want to hack World of Warcraft accounts in or around Harlan. Devil, clueless as to why this should be important to anyone, least of all Wynn Duffy, had told him that the only person in Harlan he knew to be very good with computers and hacking shit was one crazy bastard named Nicky Cush. Apparently that had been a good hint, because Devil was sure that had it not been to Duffy's satisfaction he would have let Devil know.

Keegan had made a few visits to Nina's place where they'd listen to music (and Devil was really developing a serious liking for electronic music nowadays) or watch "The Walking Dead", and the rest of the past week Devil would spend as much time with Nina as possible. She had taken the entire week off after learning about Devil's near-death experience, and Devil, the people person that he was, relished the company. This week, though, she'd started working again, and the doctor pulling his stitches was the most exciting thing happening to him in days. It seemed Devil was getting better; wishing for action was a sure sign for that.

"Christ Almighty!" Devil flinched. "You doin' this with your eyes closed, man?"

"Hold still" the doctor snapped.

"Ain't pullin' stitches supposed to be painless?" Keegan asked who stood off to the side, watching in awe.

"Not if you're doin' a shitty job of it. I coulda done that better by myself."

"I doubt it" the doctor just said. "Forty-two stitches is a lot. A few of them were done subcutaneously, that's why it hurts."

Devil sighed heavily. "Just shut up and get on with it. Jesus."

"You're bleedin'!" Keegan sounded shocked. "Is he supposed to be bleedin' like that?"

"It can't be worse than it was before" Devil said, but he did crane his neck for a look at what that moron was doing to his back. Yeah, there was some blood. But it still looked like a tolerable amount.

"Hold still" the doctor urged, pushing a gloved hand at Devil's shoulder to have him lie flat again. Devil complied, hoping it would be over soon. Pulling stitches had never hurt this much. Or taken so long. Granted, he'd never had so many of them, either.

"Nina at work?" Keegan asked.

"Yeah. She's gotta make up for lost time since she kinda went AWOL last week for me, so she's gon' be late tonight, too."

"Well, you up for a 'Resident Evil' marathon? I got parts 1 till 4 on blue-ray, and a friend of mine sent me a bootleg of part 5 just last night."

"Mmh, not sure. On the other hand… you know what, wh-" He jerked violently suddenly. "Motherfucker!" Whatever the doctor had done to his back right there, it had been PAINFUL.

"What the fuck are you doin'?" he snapped, half sitting up. "You're supposed to just pull them damn stitches, not cut me back up again!"

"It was one of the subcutaneous ones. I told you it was gonna hurt." The doctor looked at him impassively.

"Jesus motherfucking Christ."

"You're bleedin'!"

"I ain't surprised."

Two more moments of surprisingly sharp pain, though not as bad, and the doctor stood up and took off his rubber gloves. "There. Done. I'll disinfect the wound site and bandage you up real quick-"

"I can do that myself" Devil cut him off.

"I see. Well, in any case, take it easy for the next two weeks and you'll be fine. Have a nice day."

"You need to work on your bedside manner" Devil said and was actually surprised that the doctor flipped him off before leaving the flat.

"I don't think he liked you very much" Keegan said, frowning.

"That went both ways. Hey, get me the first aid kit from the bathroom, will ya? I gotta tape this up before I bleed on the couch."

"You sure it was a good idea to not let him do that?" Keegan's voice was muffled since he was yelling from the common bathroom. The flat was empty save for two rather young guys who'd watched the whole ordeal from one of the sleeping rooms, eyes big.

"I'm fine, brother, believe me. I do know how to apply a band aid." Devil used the towel he'd laid on to mop up the small amount of blood that had leaked out. From what Devil could see, the cut looked good; half-healed, clean. The doctor was right, another two weeks and he'd be good as new.

"It's not just a band aid" Keegan said when he exited the bathroom, first aid kit in hand. "More like a giant band aid. A band aid for giants."

"Just give me the damn thing." Devil snatched the box from Keegan's hand and rummaged through it to find the disinfectant.

While Devil proceeded to patch himself up under Keegan's doubtful gaze his cell phone rang, but Devil didn't answer it; he had his hands full. If it was something important, the caller would try again. And they did, twenty minutes later, while Devil was still at Keegan's even though he'd planned on going by Nina's place to change into a not-bloody shirt by then. Keegan had talked him into a joint ("just one, come on") to take the edge off, and now they were lounging on the big couch and listening to some new music a friend from Germany had sent. The music was amazing, and so was the weed, amazing enough that Devil almost overheard his phone. He got it just in time.

"Hold on a sec" he yelled into the speaker before turning to Keegan. "Yo, turn the music down, I can't hear shit!"

Keegan rolled his eyes, but passed him the joint and lazily got up to lower the volume.

"…er Devil?" an irritated, oily voice sounded in Devil's ear, and Devil sighed.

"Yep, that's me, sorry." He took a long drag and let the smoke out through his nose.

"Well" Duffy said. "You seem to be enjoying yourself."

Devil watched the smoke dance in the air. "You have no idea."

"Anyway. I hope the doctor I sent by your CAG flat did a good job in pulling the stitches?"

"Well, it felt like he was torturin' me with a blowtorch, but he got 'em stitches out alright, an' I guess that's the point, right? So you sent him, huh? Didn't need to do that."

"View it as a thank you for the info on Nicky Cush. He was indeed the man I was looking for."

"No big deal. Guy's one crazy son of a bitch."

"That's putting it lightly, I'm afraid. Now" Duffy cleared his throat, "I do have some things I need to talk to you about."

"Shoot."

"It would be better if we could talk it out in person."

"Kay, when?"

"How about right now?"

"Dude, no way." Devil had to laugh, which made him cough, which made him laugh more. "I'm so high right now, I don't think I can even spell my name right… I ain't drivin' nowhere."

"Alright. Over the phone then." Sigh. "Mr. Devil, I believe you're aware that Robert Quarles is no longer a swinging dick around here since he's been 'disarmed' by Marshal Givens?"

"Yeah, I know." Boyd had told him the entire story during their last phone conversation, after Keegan had told him the snippets he'd caught through the Frankfort criminals grapevine.

"Good, because now you can work for me out in the open, which means we do not have to meet in that storage room in the pet store anymore. No more Quarles means no more hiding because there's nothing to fear."

"That's good, right?" Devil shook his head when Keegan offered him the joint again. He had the feeling he needed a clear head for this talk.

"I'd like to think so, I could still use your capabilities for this and that. But there's something else."

"What?"

"There are other people who are interested in employing you now, too. "

"What other people?"

"Well, you see, Mr. Devil, it's funny because you have everybody, and I mean EVERYBODY, convinced that you officially switched sides and just did some great work for Quarles. Ergo, now that Quarles is gone, people consider you available, and for some reason they think contacting me is the way to get you."

"Why you?"

"Seems everybody who matters around here took notice of the one meeting we had in my motor coach two months ago. Officially I only stated that you and I could not reach an agreement, remember? I never said we would never work with one another. And people believe it."

"Assumin' you an' Mike keep your mouths shut."

"Which we will, Mr. Devil, no worries. Nobody has any clue about your double-dealings, and from my quarter, it will stay that way. We do both still have a lot to lose, should that secret ever be revealed."

"Mh-mh, sure." Devil rubbed his forehead. "So, what now?"

"Well, I'd suggest you come by my trailer when you're not high, sometime this weekend, and then I'll tell you what people want you to do which jobs."

"Long as none of them are called Shaun, I'mma give it some thought."

"You know" Wynn Duffy spoke up, "you don't have to do that if you don't want to. Take on other jobs, I mean. You could continue to just work for me."

"And be your personal hand puppet? Fuck you."

Devil hung up then, mulling it over. So, other criminals involved in Dixie Mafia business wanted to give him work. Well, Devil did need the money. And he hated Duffy's guts, so a change of scene did seem like a good thing. But Devil knew now what things he could and could not (or rather, would not) do for just anyone. He'd made his mistakes, and he'd learned from them. Should people come to him and ask him to kill, he'd just flat-out refuse. Devil assumed the "good work" everybody had heard of him doing for Quarles referred to the two dead Norwegian business men. They had better not expected a repeat performance of that.

"Who was that?" Keegan asked from the far end of the couch.

"No-one."

"Was it Duffy?"

"Why you askin' me if you know?"

"You gonna work for him now that Quarles is gone?" Keegan looked at him, and Devil felt the stare of the two kids from the sleeping room on him, as well. He shrugged.

"We'll see."

"That's a big deal, dude" Keegan said. "It's like everybody wants you to work for 'em."

"Yeah, well, but it don't mean I wanna work for everybody. Hey, crank up the volume, I can't hear a thing."

* * *

"Well, actually, Devil, there's this nice young man that I practically stumbled upon in a bookstore in Tennessee that I decided to take in for a while, see if he fits with the milieu."

"Good for you."

"So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Okay now, Boyd, you know that now that Quarles ain't got no say in Frankfort no more, I'm practically unemployed, right?"

"Well, now, I wouldn't have called it that, but I am following your line of thought."

"And Duffy just called me and told me that he wants me to work for him out in the open now, which means, no more secret meetings in that closet in the pet store, and I mean, I hate that fuckin' bastard, but I could definitely use the money…"

"Has he not given you the reward for the rather important assignment you did for him yet?"

"Ah, nope, he has not. And I reckon if I say no to him now I ain't seein' none of that money, either."

"Another reason for you to not deny him your skillful service."

"I thought so, too. But here's the thing. Seems like, well, Duffy said there are people who want me to do work for them, as well."

"What kind of people exactly?"

"Don't know that yet."

"And what kinds of work?"

"No idea."

"Well, Devil. It is true that now with Quarles disqualified it is much safer for you to move around, but still I think you should hold off a little, take a bit more time to heal up. And only take on jobs that you feel comfortable with, you hear me? If there are actually criminals linin' up in front of Mr. Duffy's motor coach lookin' to contact you, means you can take your pick which jobs you'll do and which you won't. And I want you to do that."

"Hell, Boyd, don't worry, I already mulled over that. Somebody comes along and asks me to shoot people in the head, I'mma say no, and that's that."

"I am glad to hear you have made up your mind about that particular issue, son, really, I am. It seems you are a wanted man right now."

"Does look like it, huh."

* * *

It was Saturday morning, shortly before 7 am, and Devil was on the road to see Duffy. He had, after driving to Nina's empty place and changing into un-bloodied clothes and calling Boyd, taken Keegan up on the Resident Evil marathon offer and stayed awake until 4 in the morning, trying not to move around too much because his back was stinging, but laughing his ass off at Keegan's comical commentary on each and every scene of those crap-tastic mothers of all over-produced apocalypse movies. Napping on the couch for two hours, he'd been sad to realize he'd missed Nina and she would be disappointed with him about that, but if he came home now he would wake her from a sleep she really needed after overworking herself the past five days.

Recalling his talk with Duffy the day before while he took a shower in the common bathroom of the CAG flat, he wondered at what time Wynn Duffy usually got up and how him and Mike decided on what to eat for breakfast. Either way, Devil thought, he couldn't go home to Nina now, and he didn't really want to wait around until Keegan woke up or new passers-by for the sleeping rooms arrived.

While he made coffee one of the two sole occupiers of the sleeping rooms tumbled into the kitchen, looking bleary eyed and disorientated. Devil felt a short stab of guilt; him and Keegan had been quite noisy and the two kids had probably been too timid to just tell them to tune it the fuck down. Without a word Devil handed the first cup of fresh, hot, black caffeine to the kid, who grinned a sleepy thanks at him and shuffled back to the sleeping room he'd spent the night in.

Keegan was still fast asleep when Devil left. Usually when Devil drove in his car he liked listening to music, or Lewis decided to screw around with the radio. But this morning Devil left the silence be and the only sounds accompanying him on his way to where he knew Duffy's last location had been were the humming of the 4runner's motor and the tweeting of birds. That way Devil could hear himself think.

Ever since that incident with Shaun in that ugly-as-fuck yellow barn and the dream about Tanner he'd had following it, Devil had been in a quiet state of self-reflection. Almost dying made you reconsider things, made you look at yourself and your surroundings in a different light. It made sense to him now that he could not kill anybody, at least not for the time being; it also made sense that, even though the gunshot wound had been a far more critical injury, it had been the cut on his back that had brought him closer to meeting his maker than anything else before.

Devil still remembered the moment Boyd had pulled his gun on him; he remembered the feel of the wooden floor under his back when he fell backwards off the chair. His head hit the floor of Johnny's bar very hard, and Devil had a feeling of vertigo for the next ten minutes and issues to string a sentence together that Boyd and Johnny could understand. He'd been sure he was going to die that night, so sure, he'd never felt more certain of that before, that this was it. Devil had expected a kill shot. And that was what had made all the difference.

Because he'd expected it. Now, Devil was not a medical expert. He couldn't say with certainty that clinical shock was a psychologically induced condition. But he was convinced the mental state of the one soon victim to shock had to play an important role; see, he had not expected Shaun to show up out of nowhere and try to severe Devil's spinal cord, and in his maneuver that was supposed to shove Shaun out of the spinal cord danger zone that ended up breaking Shaun's wrist (and also turned out to be an absolute idiot move because it was what led to Devil's back being sliced up like a dead fish in the first place) he had not expected to bring himself even closer to death than he already was. And he remembered panic, sheer, blind panic when he thought he heard Funny say something about "bleeding out". Devil had not been prepared and that was what almost killed him.

Taking into account that it had been his murder of a (in fact not quite) innocent woman who had nothing to do with any of that which had brought Devil into this fucked up situation, Devil did reckon that maybe killing was not the way to go if he wanted to keep living on for just a bit. Of course, the style of life he'd chosen when he joined the Aryan Brotherhood and made his money in crime did not suggest an expectancy of retirement and a nice, quiet ending to a long, heart-warming story.

(But long and heart-warming, in Devil's book, were a synonym for boring and inconsequential anyways.)

Devil had not had what one would have called a nice quiet life. It was rather the opposite case. And Devil had taken it as given, because questioning it would not have changed anything and either way Devil, even when he'd just been little Derek, even back as far as he could remember, when his mother had still been around, had never been able to picture himself as a grown-up who walked around in suit and tie and carried a briefcase. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that all the men in his family had been in the Military at one point, and the most important role model a small boy could have, his own father, had been a rather violent man, had always been and never seen fit to change. Hence, violence and inconsistency had always been there and Devil did not know anything else. So Devil stuck to what he knew.

Right now, though, Devil felt comfortable with the nice, quiet life he'd had for the past two weeks. It was the first break from crime he had had in… well, ever, as far as he could remember, not counting the stints in prison that had been involuntary pauses from life. All Devil had done in the past days had been to cuddle (actually cuddle) with Nina on the couch, talking about his life, and when she had to work, he hung around with Keegan, getting high and watching zombie films. Devil would have been able to go on with that for yet a while.

But the cut in his back was halfway healed already, and his stash of money was melting away, and Devil stuck to what he knew. He could not live a life without his line of work, he knew that much. Otherwise he would not be sitting in his truck and driving to Wynn Duffy's motor coach at 7 am in Frankfort, Kentucky. The break had been nice. Perhaps it had something to do with him getting old. In less than two weeks Devil would turn 36. The times were a-changing, indeed.

Devil found Duffy half an hour later and watched the sun rise while a quiet commotion was going on inside the trailer. A rumpled looking, half-dressed Mike opened the door and frowned at him.

"Mornin'" Devil said.

"Uh, mornin'. The fuck are you doin' here this early?"

"I was…"

"Who the hell is it?" Devil could hear Wynn Duffy shout from the back.

"It's Devil!" Mike shouted in answer.

"Oh, for God's sake. Let him in!"

Devil entered the motor home, silently amused at the scene. Duffy came out of the tiny bathroom then, and apparently Devil had interrupted him in his morning routine. Duffy wiped some shaving cream from his chin with a towel and sighed.

"Mr. Devil, when I said, come by sometime this weekend when you're not high, I didn't necessarily expect you to show up the next day at sun-up."

Devil shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood."

"Sure. Have you slept at all? You look tired."

"Two hours, maybe. I make do with less than that."

"Well, I don't. Mike, coffee. You want a cup?"

"Ain't gonna say no to that."

Mike buttoned up his shirt and yawned heartily. "How you drink it?"

"Milk, no sugar, thanks."

Mike started puttering around with the coffee machine, and soon the unmistakable aroma of brewing coffee filled the motor coach, that smell that everybody knew and loved and that made every place feel just a little bit like home, even when you were sitting across from a Dixie Mafia boss and about to talk business with him about how you were not gonna kill anyone anymore.

Duffy stowed the used towel away (he appeared to be kind of a neat freak, Devil observed) and then sighed contentedly.

"So, now that you're here, we can start talking shop."

"S'what I came here for."

"Right. Well, do prepare yourself for a surprise, because I have some things to tell you."

Devil raised a brow. "Okay?"

"Do you remember a fat, disgusting bastard named John Bourgignon?"

"What… course I do. The asshole with the whore house. Shot him in the foot. Shoulda shot him in the face, that fuckin' piece of shit."

Memories rushed back to Devil, the stench of waste and jizz in that whore house, the young, really young prostitute who'd walked past him with her robe hanging open and not caring in the least that Devil could see how very naked she was underneath. He remembered the hand-shaped bruise on her hip and how she'd given him a tired, fake smile. He remembered how all the other whores he'd passed had flinched back from him, afraid. Devil rubbed at his forehead. That was one of the things he would have liked to forget.

"Well, you might have gotten in trouble if you'd killed him, but I do share the sentiment. That man is a giant waste of space. Ah, here comes the coffee. Thank you, Mike."

"Thanks" Devil mumbled and sipped at the hot beverage. Mike poured himself his own cup and then leaned against the isle, listening.

"So what about the giant waste of space?"

"Well, you'll laugh. See, the people who have expressed interest in employing you, 90 percent of them have never met you. Ergo, they don't know what you look like. They have just heard about the things you did, the work you did for Quarles, and yes, I am mostly referring to the Norwegian Business Men Job, which was not only a very successful one, and as far as I know, that was all thanks to you, but also a very risky one, riskier than most people were comfortable with. I told you it was on the news. Usually the things we do don't turn up on the news, because usually when we take our trash out, we do it discreetly. And there was nothing discreet about that meeting."

"Not really."

"But anyway. John Bourgignon heard about it, too, and he wants you to work for him."

"I'm… WHAT?"

Devil blinked at Duffy owlishly. Then he had to snort a laugh. Mike did the same before taking a slurp from his coffee.

"I know. I told you you would laugh" Duffy said and grinned. "The fat bastard knows your name, he has no clue who you are. Imagine his face when he'd recognize you and realize just who he has asked for help here."

"Well… what if he wants to kill me the minute he sees me? I wasn't exactly, you know, nice to him the last time we met."

"Then you have official permission to do whatever you want, Mr. Devil. If it's in self-defense, not even the cops can say anything about it."

Devil had to let that sink in for a bit. "So… you think I should do it."

Duffy snorted. "Hell no. There are bound to be consequences if anyone finds out we did shit together behind Quarles's back, the most prominent one being that people might suspect you to have anything to do with Granger's murder, and I know for a fact, and you will back me up on this, if you ever get arrested for that, you'll rat me out to the cops faster than I can pull a trigger."

Devil nodded. "I would totally do that."

"See" Duffy sipped his coffee, "they're all just suggestions. You can say no, I'm not your boss, not about that, at least. I have other offers lined up, you really can take your pick."

Devil stretched his arms and looked out the window. The sun had fully risen now and the sky was void of any clouds, just a wide expanse of blue. Duffy's motor coach was parked on a slight elevation in the area which meant that they had a really beautiful view. It was going to be a sunny day.

"Alright then." Devil gulped down a good portion of his coffee. "What else you got?"

"Mike, make some more coffee" Duffy commanded. "This might take a while."

* * *

There is a short reference to "This is where I come in", my collab with TellatrixForever. Also, the thing where Devil had a feeling of vertigo after falling backwards in his chair is a detail I took from an interview with Kevin Rankin about that specific scene. I didn't even stop to think about how hard the poor guy must have hit his head when he did that scene. Oh well. He is a very good actor, I mean, he was SO fantastic as Tyler Briggs in "Trauma" *swoon*

And the thoughts Devil had on almost dying, I took great inspiration from "Between a Rock and a Hard Place" by Aron Ralston because I was reading it while writing this chapter. (The movie even had me in tears at the end, of relief that he made it.)


	3. Chapter 3

I'm introducing an OC in this chapter named Louis Baljakov, who will (at least in this part of The Penny) only ever be mentioned by other people. I have no idea how the Dixie Mafia actually works, and while I could milk the wikipedia article about it for all that it's worth, I've been too busy with making up my own versions of reality. In a later chapter Baljakov will play an important role (again without actually making an entrance), so you might want to remember the name.

WARNING: In this chapter, there's a short lemony oral sex scene at the end. For those of you easily offended by that sort of thing, I've marked the beginning of that scene with a *, so you can end the chapter there.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2

The Inside Woman

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

It was Tuesday, and Devil was waiting on the side of the road for someone to join him; a Kevin Carlisle that was going to help him with the job he'd taken. Duffy had listed quite a few job offers, and this job was the first one that needed doing, temporally speaking. It was also paid really well, but that came with the very high risk.

It was some Russian guy, Devil could for the life of him not remember that name, Balkanov or something to that effect, and that Russian guy had an exorbitant amount of cocaine stowed away somewhere, and Devil (and Kevin Carlisle) had to pick it up and take it somewhere else.

The risk that came with this job was ridiculously high. If you got into a police control and they found 50 kilos of cocaine in your trunk, you got arrested, there was no way around that. Devil had told Duffy as much, and Duffy was understanding about it.

"Of course it's risky" he'd said. "That's why Baljakov wants someone else to do it."

"I figured as much" Devil had answered, rolling his eyes. "But that ain't hardly helpful for me."

"Well, look. This job, if successful, will be very well paid. Half of the police in and around Frankfort are corrupt anyway. If you're lucky you'll only meet one of those, and then just drop a name, mine, for example, and you should be fine."

"And if it's one from the other half?"

"Well, then you're screwed. But, you can at the very least try, Mr. Devil. If it doesn't work out, well, bad luck for Baljakov, he could have figured out a better way. You won't get paid, but I'll post your bail."

And that was that. They were going to take a rented car of unknown origin with a very large trunk (Devil just hoped it was not registered as stolen, since they did not need another nail in their coffin), and Devil had picked it up in the backyard of a rather shady looking establishment in Crestwood, near Louisville, and then he'd had to drive to a place in the middle of nowhere called Coxs Creek to pick up Carlisle, and here he was now, standing next to the dented, old car on Fairfield Road, playing with a half-functioning Rubik's Cube he'd found in the glove box to keep his hands busy. It was eight in the morning, and Devil had been on the road for two hours already, driving to Crestwood (and having to leave his 4runner in that shady backyard which he did not like one bit – he'd promised to the guy he'd gotten the keys for the rental car from that if there was one scratch on his truck when he picked it up again, he would shoot him in the crotch; not that he was worried someone would steal it, because as far as Devil knew there were only three people in the world that the motor started for and that were Boyd, Funny and Devil himself) and then driving here.

Devil yawned and stretched, reminded by the mean sting in his back that he was still mending. That was one plus to this job, it was basically just driving from one place to another to another and back. If you could drive a car and had a good sense of direction it was easy. No hard labor, and Devil decided that whoever this Kevin Carlisle was, if he was not as skinny as Keegan, he would do all the heavy lifting today.

Coxs Creek was a rural landscape, and the houses on Fairfield Road stood far apart. The one Devil had been directed to wait in front of was very small, but looked well-kept. There were a few trees surrounding some of the houses and Devil could hear birds tweeting in them. He sighed. Whenever was Carlisle gonna show up? Should Devil go to the door and knock?

After another couple of minutes of pointless waiting Devil tossed the Rubik's cube into the car and decided to try it. They had a very long way to make today and Devil did not have time for this shit. He walked along the driveway and stepped onto the small front porch, already lifting his hand to knock, when the door opened.

"Ey there, you the guy I'm supposed to bunk with today?"

"Yeah" Devil said, lowering his hand. "I'm Devil. You Kevin Carlisle?"

"Sure am!"

Kevin Carlisle grinned at him, a wide, carefree grin, and Devil could bury his worries about hard manual labor for the day because this guy looked like he could have carried the car back to Crestwood by himself. He was as tall as Funny, but about twice as heavy, with hands big as banana bunches and a large, round head. His nose flat and rocky and his ears slightly deformed, he looked like a wrestler. Also he seemed slightly dumb, but Devil had dealt with Dewey Crowe long enough, he could handle dumb.

"S'up, Devil!" Kevin grabbed Devil's hand and pulled him into a one-armed bear hug that knocked the air out of Devil's lungs and made the knife wound pull. When Kevin released him, Devil had to breathe through the pain and clear his throat before he could talk again.

"Hey there" was all he said. "Take it easy."

Kevin pulled a face. "Did I hurt you? I do that sometimes, sorry."

"Nah, it's, uh, I'm just a little banged up still."

"What happened?"

"Some guy tried to slice me open two weeks ago…"

"Cool!" Jesus H. Christ, Devil thought. "Can I see it?"

Devil sighed and lifted the hem of his shirt, turning around. He heard Carlisle take in a sharp breath. "Shit, that looks mean."

"Yeah" Devil said and turned to face him again. "Got the stitches pulled on Friday, but I still bled a bit, so I'm just gonna take it easy today. You're here for the heavy liftin' and shit."

"Sure, no prob. So, Devil. That's a cool name. How'd you get it?"

"It's uh, kind of a long story."

"Well, everybody just calls me Carlisle, so. Let's get goin'."

"Alright."

They got into the car, Devil behind the wheel, and got going. The drugs were stored in Athens, Ohio, so it was going to be a long day.

* * *

The oppressive midday heat made sweat run down Nina's back when she walked the last few blocks to her apartment. She'd been working a lot in the last few days to make up for the unannounced leave she'd taken after Devil's near-death experience, and then today her boss, a really kind man, had asked her if she was okay and why she'd taken the leave. Nina had answered as close to the truth as she could: That her new boyfriend had been in an accident and was still in the process of healing. Upon hearing that, her boss had sent her home early so she could take care of her "man", as he'd put it.

Nina had jumped at the chance to get off early, even though she would not be taking care of Devil for the day. He'd gotten up an hour before she did (and she got up really early) and just pressed a cup of coffee in her hands and a quick kiss to her temple when they met in the kitchen shortly after half past six. "No time to explain" he'd said, and that he'd be gone all day but would see her tonight. It was just like the old days, really, only now Nina knew that if she asked him what he had been up to, he would tell her. Of course she didn't like it that he was already up and about again even though he was technically still not fully healed (she'd talked to Keegan on the phone for a few minutes while Devil had been in the bathroom Sunday night and knew that pulling the stitches had not been the quick, painless affair Devil had described it as). But Nina could hardly protest when she knew what things Devil had been up to while recovering from a gunshot wound.

In the hot, glimmering air Nina spotted Felicity sitting in front of her apartment building, waiting patiently for someone to let her in, and Nina smiled when she remembered Devil saying they needed a pet and could adopt the three-colored alley cat that roamed this street. When they'd had their talk Devil had explained to her how the cat had been nothing but a cover so he could meet a certain someone whose name she could not know in a pet store without raising suspicion, but as far as she knew that arrangement fell through now and Devil still liked the cat. Nina did, too, so they kept her.

"Hey there, sweetie" Nina greeted Felicity when she was only a few feet from the door. "How's it goin', huh? You hungry?"

Felicity, in answer, scurried over to Nina and stood on her foot. That strange habit always made Nina laugh, because Felicity barely weighed six pounds and if she balanced it right with her small paws she could fit all four of them on one of Nina's feet and then looked up at her like she was grinning. It was adorable. Nina put her bag down and lifted the cat into her arms. Felicity was not a big fan of that, but she allowed it for about a minute before she started getting twitchy.

"Well, look at you, sweetie" Nina cooed. "Who'd you belong to, huh? Who was so mean to kick you out, a thing of beauty like you?"

"There's a good question."

Nina dropped the cat in surprise at the sudden voice behind her. Felicity hissed and ran away, and Nina slowly turned around. She didn't need to, really, she knew who it was, but she had never liked turning her back on Nick, even when they'd still been dating.

"What the fuck do you want?" Nina spit. She was scared already, but she did her best in covering it up.

"What d'you mean, what do I want? How about 'hello, nice to see you'?" Nick stood there, tall, imposing, wearing a bright yellow polo shirt, and he tried for a carefree smile, but Nina could see right through him; it was obvious he was angry. If it was about the way she greeted him, or something else entirely, she had no idea.

"Well, since it's not nice to see you, I ain't gonna say it, cause it would be a lie." Nina made a step back, and Nick at the same time made a step forward. Uh-oh.

"Aw, come on, don't say that. You know you like seein' me."

"I don't. In fact, I think I told you I never wanna see you again."

"You didn't say that the last time we saw each other."

"Yeah, because I ran from you!" Nina looked at him, exasperated. "Because you ran at me like you were gonna kill me!"

"I just wanted to talk, but you wouldn't even let me start!" Nick took another step forward, which led to Nina taking another step back.

"I think that was because there's nothin' to talk about."

"That ain't true. I know I messed up, but, Nina, baby, please, I messed up a couple times in the past and we always managed to work it out-"

"We worked out shit, Nick, you just apologized and pretended like nothin' was wrong!"

"But nothin' WAS wrong! It was okay!"

"It was NOT, Nick, and I want you to fuck off now. Leave, I mean it."

"Or what? You gonna call the cops?" Nick took a big step forward this time, and Nina almost tripped in her hurry to keep her distance from him.

"Maybe." She swallowed.

"Or you gonna call your new guy?" Nick's mouth curved downward in a frown, and now Nina understood what he was so mad about. Of course. Jealousy had always been a hobby of his.

"Because, yeah, I saw him, I saw the two of you together. Jesus, Nina, what the hell's gotten into you? Are you blind all of a sudden? The guy's a fuckin'… hobo, I mean, look at him!"

"Stop it."

"All those tattoos, and he wears shirts with the sleeves ripped off? Nina, come on. I know you ain't serious about him. I know you only fuck him to get back at me, and I get it, okay? Message received, you can stop that bullshit now. I know I messed up, and it was time you showed me how it feels, and it feels shitty, I get it now. Okay? I'm sorry."

"Nick…" Nina didn't know what to say to that. Apparently now he wasn't just jealous anymore, he was delusional, too. You did not need to be a genius to know that was a rather dangerous mix.

Nick misread her stunned silence for something else entirely, because he took another huge step forward. "Yeah, baby? You scared of him? You want me to run him off for you? I can do that, it ain't a problem, I'mma kick him out for you, no problem, and then we can be together again, okay?"

"Nick…" Nina couldn't help it. She knew it was not the right thing to do in such a dangerous situation, but she could not help it. She laughed.

"Nick… Nick, are you SERIOUS?" She tried to hold in a disbelieving snort of laughter. It didn't work. "You wanna 'run him off' for me? YOU? You ain't never had a fist fight in your life, save for the one three years ago where that guy at the movies broke your nose because you poured your popcorn over him by accident…"

"That was-"

"… and you cried, remember? Nick, really, I don't think…" Nina had to giggle. The idea alone of Nick trying to 'run off' Devil, the guy who she knew for a fact to be a leg-breaker for the Dixie Mafia, it was just ridiculous. Devil, the guy who'd run around shooting people with a gunshot wound to his side? "Nick, come on. Get real."

"What the FUCK are you laughin' at?" Nick said. He was so angry it practically emanated off him in waves. "This is NOT funny. I could fuck this guy up if I wanted to."

"No, Nick, for a fact I know you could NOT." Nina had an inkling she did not need to say any of the things she knew about Devil, but Nick had her riled up now, and she wanted him to be as rightly scared of Devil as he should be. "Because Devil's-"

"Wait, wait, WAIT. His name is DEVIL?"

"It's a nickname he got in prison" Nina blurted and felt satisfied at the stumped look on Nick's face. Eat THAT, she thought.

"You're…"

"That's right, he's been to jail, for physical assault, Nick, so I don't think you can 'run him off' for me just like that."

"So now you're fuckin' some brute who's been to prison just to get back at me? Nina, I think you're takin' it a bit too far."

"Jesus Christ, Nick!" Nina shouted at him. "I ain't doin' NOTHIN' to get back at you! I'm with Devil because of HIM, not because of you! Nothin' I do in my life is because of you anymore, and it ain't never gonna happen again!"

"That why you changed the locks, too? Cause of 'Devil'?" Nick used exaggerated air quotes here. Nina swallowed again. The heat became more and more oppressive, and now she was scared again. GOD, how she wished Devil was here now.

"No" she said slowly, "that was indeed for you, because you ain't a part of my life no more, and that means you gotta stay out of it. Out of the flat, out of the building, out of this street, out of my business. Got it? Because if you don't, I will call the cops on your ass."

"Nina-"

"Go to hell!"

"Nina!"

But Nina had already turned around and ran. Through the door, slamming it in his face in the hopes of getting a small head start in the race up the stairs to the apartment, because she knew he would follow her. She remembered the last time it had happened this way.

* * *

_It was Tuesday, and Nina had gotten off early because of an important delivery that fell through and left her with nothing to do so that Frank, her nice boss, gave her the day off to be with her new "man". He even winked at her, which would have been creepy if she hadn't known Frank was in fact gay and not interested in her the slightest bit. She'd told him what Nick had done when he'd asked her what had made her take a day off just like that (the day after Nick had cheated on her) when she obviously was not sick. Nina had told him and he had been very understanding about it, and hence when Nina had told Frank she'd met somebody new (he was the first person she told about Devil, and it had been VERY exciting) he told her to go home and spend time with him. Nina didn't have to be told twice._

_To ask Devil to move in with her after only knowing him for a week had been a risky move, Nina had been aware of that. She'd always thought every step of her way through to the bitter end, and it hadn't gotten her anything worth having save for the flat that she was suddenly alone in and couldn't pay for by herself. At that point it hadn't even been clear what this thing they were having actually was. When Devil was sober, the sex was a revelation, and Nina enjoyed it, whatever it was they had, and she did not want it to stop. Also, he seemed like the kind of guy who could protect you if need be, and that was a thrilling aspect to Nina who had never met a guy like that before. And for once in her life she wanted to NOT think everything through a thousand times, especially if all that over-thinking got her were a verbally abusive, cheating ex and a heartless, egoistical mother._

_And Devil had the ingenious idea to change the locks, and the tools and know-how to do it himself instead of hiring somebody for it, another thing Nina had not known was possible. How ingenious that idea really proved to be Nina only understood when she walked the last few blocks to her apartment building, catching a glimpse of that pretty alley cat running away, and thought she saw Nick's car standing on the other side of the road. It had to have been imagination. He'd been gone. Yeah, sure, he'd still attempt to come in at random times when she was alone and tried talking to her, but he had never waited for her outside. So far she had been able to not let him talk her into anything. The last time he'd tried to harass her she told him to leave and never come back. That had been a week ago. She'd told him to leave, and he'd heeded it. …right?_

_No, he had not. As soon as Nina stood in front of the building, already roaming her bag for the apartment keys, she suddenly heard a car door slam, and then his voice calling her name._

"_Nina!"_

_Nina froze. _

"_Nina, it's me!"_

_Slowly, oh so slowly she turned around, in the irrational hopes that by the time she had turned her gaze to where the voice sounded from he would evanesce into thin air. But, no, there he was. Crossing the street. And he was headed towards her. Towards Nina. Holy crap, Nina thought, that was the moment I was so afraid of. And he's gonna follow me inside and talk at me for an hour and he'll get me to give in and…_

_But wait, Nina thought, Devil changed the locks! Nick can't follow me inside! Nina did the only thing she could think of to evade her hated ex-boyfriend: She made a run for it. Nick, who had still been in the middle of the road when Nina decided to try and out-run him, was suitably surprised, not having expected that reaction from her, and picked up the chase immediately. Nina figured he had to be wondering why she even considered running an option, because he still thought he had the keys to the apartment. Nina did have a head start this time, and her hands shook violently when she tried to sort out the right key for the lock. The keys were new; which one was the one for the lock? She sorted out the one she thought to be right, but it didn't fit. Nina cursed, and in her hurry to find the right one she dropped the whole bunch. Tears came to her eyes when she heard Nick's stumping footsteps on the stairs._

_Holy shit, he's almost here, she thought. Just one more stair case, and he's got me. Get a GRIP!, she thought, trying another key. It fit. Nina almost laughed in relief, but she could hear Nick and he was getting closer; closer, still…_

"_Nina, wait!"_

_The door opened and Nina barged inside, slamming the door shut behind her with a force that had to challenge the plaster in the hallway. Even though she knew Nick would likely not get inside now, she still fastened the security chain and made to properly lock the door from the inside, when she heard the sounds of a key being stuck into the lock from the other side. All kinds of irrational fears started up in her head, like, Devil hadn't done it right and Nick would be able to open the door and come inside. Or, Devil had done it right, but Nick had an all-purpose key that could open every lock, and then he was gonna come inside…_

_Metallic clinking sounds reached her, followed by a curse, and then the hammering started._

"_Nina! Nina, what the fuck! Did you change the fuckin' locks?! Nina, answer me, I know you're in there! Nina! NINA!"_

_Tears streamed down Nina's face freely, equally parts of relief, shock and fear. Sobbing, she carefully neared the door, still afraid it was going to bust open any second, and locked the door from the inside, which elicited a new wave of hammering protest sounds and exclaims from Nick. With still shaking fingers, her entire body wracked with sobs now, Nina scrambled for her phone. There was only one person in the world who she wanted to come and help right now._

_It rang, and rang, and the hammering kept up, and Devil didn't pick it up. For God's sake, she thought, I need you now!_

"…_ta take this. Hello?"_

_Nina released the breath she'd been holding. "Devil?"_

"_Yeah, it's me, what is it?"_

_Nina blurted it all out, stumbling over her words, sobbing in between, barely following whether she actually got her point across. She had to have expressed herself clearly enough, though, because Devil interrupted her._

"_He WHAT?!"_

_Devil sounded furious. Nina begged for him to come, and Devil immediately promised he would be right there. "Stay put, do not open the door, under no fuckin' circumstances, d'you hear me. Shit, for God's sake. I'm like gone for half an hour and then this shit happens."_

"'_Kay, Devil" Nina stammered. "Just… get here, please."_

"_I will. See you in a few."_

_Devil hung up then and Nina already missed his voice. The hammering at the door had stopped, but she was sure that didn't mean anything. He could still be outside. He could still be waiting. He had done it before, waiting in front of the door like that. Security chain be thanked, he could not get inside, but he could talk to her through the crack, and Nina had turned the TV louder, hoping he would just leave. Eventually he would. Now the locks were changed, though, and that was a definite reason for him to get mad._

_Nina sighed, sobbing. She just wanted Devil to be here._

* * *

In present day two months later it ended about the same, with Nina barely making it inside and immediately wishing Devil were here; but now, with the extra information she had, she did wonder whether that was actually such a great idea; Devil was indeed the kind of guy who would go to lengths to protect her. He'd sounded furious over the phone back then and when she finally threw herself into his arms he'd looked like he could barely reign himself in. If Devil ever caught Nick at such a maneuver as the one he'd just pulled, there was no telling what would happen to Nick.

Nina already felt tears of fear stinging in the backs of her eyes, and she angrily blinked them away as she fastened the iron-made bolt over the door that Devil had assembled after that incident to better ensure her safety. Nick did not hammer his fists on the door this time, but she could hear him try to talk to her through the wood, and it was muffled enough that she could ignore him for now. Nina wanted to call Devil, and she wanted him to come.

She tried his cell phone, several times in half an hour, but he would not pick it up. Nina wondered whether she should start to get worried. The last time he hadn't answered her calls in that long had been when he'd been in Keegan's flat, unconscious and being stitched together. Devil had not told her what he was up to today, it could have been something equally dangerous; so what if he had been attacked again, but this time there was no Russel to save him around? Nina stopped herself halfway to a panic attack. She was being unreasonable, and she knew it. Everything was fine, she had to stay calm. Even if something was actually wrong, panicking was not gonna make anything better.

Nick eventually quieted down and Nina hoped he'd left. She was about to try and look through the spy when her cell phone rang, scaring her half to death. She hurried to take it, and it indeed was Devil calling.

"Devil, Jesus Christ, where the hell you been?"

"Uhm, Nina, hi. I just saw you called me, sorry. I could only make one call… uhm."

"What…? What d'you mean, you could only make one call? Where the hell are you?"

"I'm in Athens."

Nina blinked owlishly into the empty room. "… in Greece?"

Devil snorted. "No, babe, not Greece. Athens, Ohio."

"What the hell are you doin' in Ohio? Oh, never mind, you can tell me when you get back here. Oh yeah. Get back here, I need you, right now."

"Yeah, well, see, that's kinda the problem here, I can't just come back right now."

"And why not?"

Devil sighed heavily. "Babe, I've been arrested. Sorry."

"Arrested? Arrested for what?"

"You know, I'd rather tell you face to face."

"Well, this can't be good."

"No, no, I swear it ain't that bad. Just, it's kind of a long story."

"Okay. Well…" Nina raked a hand through her hair. She had no idea what to do now; no-one she knew had ever been arrested before. "What… what am I gonna do now? Do I… d'you need me to post your bail? Cause I ain't sure I got enough money on me for that."

"No, don't worry, I got someone else to cover that for me. That's what my one call got used on. I eventually convinced one a'them guys to give me my phone so I could call you, let you know."

"Okay. Is there anythin' else I can do for you?"

"Well…" Devil hesitated. "My car's still in Crestwood, so… could you come pick me up?"

"Pick you up. From Athens, Ohio."

"If you can't, it's alright, I'mma scam somethin' else. Just, that would make it a lot easier for me."

Nina chewed on her bottom lip. She had no car and no idea where Athens was, and she could not believe she had a boyfriend who'd gotten himself arrested.

"I'll figure somethin' out, baby" Nina said. "Hold tight, I'mma be there as soon as I can, okay?"

"Thank you" Devil said emphatically, and she could picture the palpable relief on his face. "And don't hurry, it's gonna be another few hours before I can leave, anyway."

"Okay. Oh, and uhm, Devil?"

"Yeah?"

"Where the hell is Crestwood and what's your car doin' there?"

* * *

Nina ended up renting a car. She had her driver's license, but she had not actually sat behind the wheel for a few years, and it took her some time to get used to it again. The car had a GPS device that told Nina where to go, which was lucky because otherwise she would have been completely lost. The drive took hours, and when she arrived Devil was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the police station waiting for her. He looked exhausted and annoyed.

On the drive back Devil told her what happened; him and that Carlisle guy had picked up the load of cocaine alright, Carlisle doing the heavy lifting while Devil talked things out with the contact. Then on the way back, when they were 5 minutes outside of Athens, they were stopped, and Devil, believing what had been told to him, had dropped a name which turned out to be the exact wrong thing to say.

Devil explained why his truck was still in Crestwood then, and Nina suggested they pick it up; but Devil just wanted to go home, and the drive through Crestwood would have taken them an extra hour, so Nina didn't mention it again. Devil had already made quite a few friends here, she knew he would find someone to help him; and if he didn't, he would be fine to figure something out by himself.

When Nina parked the rental car in front of the apartment building it was close to midnight. The chirping of crickets was unusually loud in the quiet night air. Nina could see Felicity sit in front of the door again, and she remembered how the cat had run off when Nina dropped her this noon.

"Oh, hey, sweetie" Nina called to the cat. "You alright?"

The cat scurried over to them and stood herself on Devil's left foot. Annoyed, he shook her off. "Why wouldn't she be?"

"Oh, uhm. No reason." Right, Nina, thought, I haven't told him about Nick yet. She wondered whether she should now; watching Devil, she thought she saw his face contract in pain when he twisted the wrong way to slam the car door shut. Her boyfriend had spent five hours in an arrest cell and was wound up and angry, and if she told him now that her ex-boyfriend had made yet another attempt at stalking her, she reckoned she would just exacerbate things; so Nina decided that for now she would let it be. She could still tell him when he'd calmed down.

Devil frowned at her; then he seemed to remember something. "Huh."

"What is it?"

"When I called you, you said you needed me… what happened? You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Devil." Nina looked at him long. The washed out light from the street lamps made him look even more tired than he already was, adding shadows under his eyes and making the few wrinkles his face had acquired more prominent, but, now Nina looked beyond that. She saw how his hair had grown out of its short chaotic cut a little, and how he'd let his beard grow a bit after he'd mentioned to her he'd had a beard once and she'd asked him to let it grow so she could see what he looked like with one, and as it turned out, he looked ravishing.

Nina saw a man who had murdered, but also a man who'd had a terrible, exhausting long day and was in pain from a still mending knife wound, but who remembered a small, inconspicuous detail from a short phone call more than eight hours ago and worried for Nina more than for himself. She saw a man who to the outside world appeared ragged and dark, but who had let her, and only so few other people, see the beauty that he carried around without even being aware of it; how he looked her directly in the eyes when they were having sex like he wanted to savor the moments when he made her feel good, and how he despised "Desperate Housewives" but let her indulge in it anyway even if there was a baseball game on because he liked to see her smile; and how he had shared his darkest, deepest, most dangerous secrets with her for the sole reason that she asked.

Holy shit, Nina thought. Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

"What are you lookin' at?" Devil said, still frowning.

"I'm…" Nina blinked. Wait, she thought. I did not say that out loud. Maybe that was not the best moment to mention it; she did not know that much about men's ways of thinking, but for some reason she decided that, maybe it was best to let him figure things out on his own before she sprung this on him; looking back on everything she knew about Devil now, all the evidence she had collected on him and his personality, his past, his character traits and the things and quirks that just made him who he was, Nina was pretty sure he might be in love with her, too, without being aware of it; or at least he could be headed there. If he was, Nina did not want to interrupt that drive.

"Christ Almighty" Devil huffed. "Take a picture, lasts longer."

"You know what, I might just do that."

Nina grabbed his hand and dragged him along, up the stairs, and when they arrived at the apartment, she kissed him, long and sweet, and said, "Go take a shower."

"Huh? What? Why? D'I smell bad?"

"No, babe, just… take a shower. Trust me." Nina smiled at him, and Devil rolled his eyes, but complied anyway. He tugged his shirt over his head on the way to the bathroom and just let it drop to the floor, but Nina only looked at his scarred back, the gunshot wound to the left side of it, the knife wound to the right. It was strange; Devil represented everything Nina had never thought she would be looking for in a man: He was a criminal, he had tattoos, he dressed carelessly, he was messy and hated spooning after sex. But, well. Nina wasn't so big on the spooning thing either. She was tidy and careful. In a way they complemented each other, but in other ways they were similar enough, like how they hated talking about their feelings and looking weak, but still had no fears about doing it in front of each other.

Nina recalled the day Tanner died, an old friend of Devil's that she'd never met. Devil had been destroyed, and also sick as a dog that day, and he'd laid in her arms and cried for hours. Of course it was egoistical to think that way, but Nina had loved every second of it. Her heart was near breaking when she saw how much it had hurt Devil to lose a friend he'd known all his life, and she could not help but shed a few tears of her own for him; but Nick had never let himself go like that, had never put that immeasurable amount of trust in her, not even the day his brother OD'd and almost died and Nina could read the shock in his eyes. Devil had let her closer than anyone, ever, before. He had told her his secrets; she was the Inside Woman to all of his thoughts.

Nina heard the shower stop when she entered the bedroom, and she undressed until she was clad in only her underwear. She looked out the window at the night sky that had not one cloud covering it, and she could count the stars and, for the first time in a very long time, she felt at peace. *

Devil came in and stood behind her, kissing her neck. His chest pressed against her back, and she could feel he had not spent too much time on toweling himself off. It didn't matter. She turned around and smiled at him. She loved how she had to crane her neck to kiss him, had always loved that, even with Nick. Before Devil could get too into the kiss, though, she broke their connection and looked down at his erection.

"Lie on the bed" she said.

"What?"

"Lie down, trust me. I wanna do somethin'."

"Should I be worried?" In the dim light she could see him grin at her, still a bit tired, but attentive now.

"No. Think of it as a gift."

"My birthday's in ten days, you can't wait till then?"

"You don't want me to wait, Devil, trust me. Lie down." Nina gave him a slight push, and he complied. Nina waited until he'd settled, then she climbed on the bed as well, kneeled over his legs and without preamble took his dick in her mouth. She could hear his surprised moan of pleasure, he might have used profanities here and there. Nina tried concentrating on what she was doing. One good thing about Nick was that, when he wanted you to do something, he told you exactly what and how to do it. That led to Nina being apparently rather good at giving head; not that she ever particularly enjoyed it, but then again, she had never enjoyed any sexual activities with Nick all that much. She hadn't known how satisfying sex could be until she met Devil. And this was the first time she had no doubt that this was what needed doing, that this was something she could give to Devil to make him feel as good as he made her feel on a daily basis.

It sounded cheesy, but that was what it was. Nina lightly fondled Devil's balls, and Devil cursed loudly.

"Shit… Nina… GOD, don't ever fuckin' STOP…"

Nina pulled off of him slowly and said, "Well, I ain't gon' do that for half an hour if that's what you think."

Devil sighed. "Babe, I ain't gonna last that long… just… OH…"

Devil spoke the truth, he was undone in less than fifteen minutes. Nina grabbed a tissue when he started coming. Her jaw and her neck ached, but she didn't mind. It had been a gift. And judging from the blissed-out look on Devil's face, it was much appreciated, too, so she just couldn't complain.

"Wait, you didn't… get yours…" Devil blinked into the dark. He was so tired now he could barely keep his eyes open. Nina laid down next to him and ran her hand through his damp hair.

"S'okay, baby, I don't mind. It was a gift." She kissed his forehead and when she leaned back he was already asleep. Carefully, so she wouldn't wake him, Nina left the bed to brush her teeth quickly. Then she crawled back next to him and covered the both of them with her favorite fluffy blanket. It didn't take her long to follow Devil into the land of dreams.

* * *

I hope it wasn't too bad. I'm aware I'm making Nina sound a bit whiny in the flashback, but I do know girls like that, and I'm trying to emphasize that Nina is, like any normal human being, far from perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

In this chapter another OC is introduced who's called Anna. Now, I consciously left her relationship with Wynn Duffy in the dark, you can draw your own conclusions, but it's a story that was developed with the help of TellatrixForever and will most definitely be told some time.

WARNING: The n-word is used once.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2

The Inside Woman

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

Devil was on his way to a farm just outside Fort Knox, half an hour from Elizabethtown. The weather was nice, but Lewis seemed to be in a foul mood today because every five minutes he switched from CD player to radio so that Devil could never finish listening to the CD with that awesome German electronic music that Keegan had given to him. It annoyed Devil to no end. Him and Funny had picked up the truck from Crestwood the day before yesterday, and Funny had taken the opportunity to ask Devil about his back and whether him and Nina already had plans for Halloween. Devil replied that, no, they didn't, so Funny invited them to a movie night at Keegan's place. "The Shining", "IT", "Dreamcatcher", a few other, non-Stephen King movies and a big bowl of popcorn. Devil accepted, because that sounded like a real solid idea for spending Halloween to him.

Devil could not help but replay the conversation with Duffy in his head, especially the part about John Bourgignon. Thinking about that guy made his skin crawl. In general, the idea of visiting that whore house again, that place that, in its filthy, despair-inducing gloominess, almost appeared otherworldly made Devil's gut churn and his chest ache in a very strange way that he could not adequately describe. This place was one of the darkest corners Devil had ever been to. Had Devil been more in touch with his feelings he would have understood that the feeling in his chest was the same one he'd had when he'd looked at that poor teenaged nigger whose legs he had been supposed to break; it was pity, and gut-wrenching hate for those who caused the suffering he had to watch without being able to change anything, who in this case was the "fat waste of space", as Wynn Duffy had called him, John Bourgignon.

Devil recalled quite clearly how he had thought he would never be able to kill anyone ever again. He very clearly recalled how Granger's death had made him feel. The hole inside him that had almost cost Craig Allan Shaun and his housekeeper their lives, too, was still there, he was sure. But Devil had the inkling he might recover, and that that hole could still come in handy in the future. Whatever consequences he would have to face, from himself as well as Nina and the law, Devil thought about killing Bourgignon and how easy it would be, and he felt nothing but satisfaction at that image. This fat waste of space did not deserve to live; actually, he had revoked his right to live when he first sold a teenaged girl to someone who was willing to pay for it.

But, as Devil was quick to remind himself, he was no vigilante. He wasn't Batman, and he did not have, nor had ever had, the incentive to be like that. Life was hard enough when you fought for yourself and the few people you held dearly. Having these people hurt or leave was almost too much to take as it were; and Devil could only imagine that the more people you had to care for, the more it hurt when you found out you couldn't do it. Protecting others only went so far, since you could never completely be there for anyone, in the same way that you could never understand someone entirely (and if you thought you did you were either clueless or lying to yourself because, as hard as people tried, in the end every man was in fact an island), and even a healthy sense of self-preservation could not stop you from getting shot or stabbed or what not. Trying to take on responsibility for other people out of pity could obviously not lead you anywhere good.

Still, Devil thought. If he killed Bourgignon, he would be doing the whole world a favor.

He shortly tripped over that notion. It had been that same idea that he had used to justify killing Stacey Granger who had really not been that much better than Bourgignon, other than dressing herself like a hotel manager and sporting impressive fake boobs. In the end, no matter what he tried to justify it with, he would create an It and take care of It, and it would be graceless and tainted. Devil had never killed somebody out of pure hatred, either. He'd been wanting and meaning to (best example: Quarles, and his ass-kisser André), but he had never had occasion to go through with it. Hence, whether it actually made any difference, he couldn't say.

Lewis had finally settled for a radio station that now played an old classic by Moody Blues, and Devil sighed as he drove through the sunshine and tried to overcome his musings. It was Sunday, and him and Nina had welcomed the day with rather awesome morning sex. Ever since last Tuesday, when Nina had picked Devil up from that arrest cell in Athens, something had shifted in their relationship, although Devil couldn't quite put his finger on it. Nina had never given him a blow job before, so obviously that was new, but she had not done it since and still things seemed to be different now. Devil recalled her giving him this very long, weird stare before she told him to go take a shower. It was uncanny. Somehow Nina seemed happier now, but for Devil, it felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, which was weird in itself because Devil had so far not viewed their relationship as something that even HAD another shoe that could drop, so to speak. He'd kept telling himself it was only temporary. Now, though, he wasn't sure anymore.

He wasn't even sure if he wanted something temporary now. The quiet life did gain appeal. And Nina made him oddly happy. It was odd because Devil didn't usually associate happiness with women, hadn't in a long time. Obviously he had been scared he would mess up ever since he asked her to get serious (or, really it had been her doing the asking, she had just phrased it like Devil had been the one to ask, which was sneaky, Devil now realized) because he had messed up every relationship he had ever had, and he wasn't sure how that had happened, but somehow in the end it seemed to be him who was at fault. And it hurt. And Devil was afraid that, if he actually developed feelings for Nina that went further than attraction (which was definitely there) and growing affection (which was most definitely there, and growing), he was going to mess up like he always did. That he would hurt her inadvertently and get hurt himself through that.

It was easier to hurt someone than help someone. That was a simple truth Devil had understood a long time ago. But even though he usually favored the easy way any time he could, he didn't want to with this.

And apparently so, Devil had done good so far. Or Nina, who was just as scarred as he was, relationship-wise, even though she was so much younger than him (she was only 24, for God's sake, practically a kid; Devil couldn't believe how different they were – at age 24 Devil had just gotten out of prison for the first time and stood before an empty life), would have walked away. Or, rather she would have kicked him out, since it was her flat they were living in. But Nina hadn't kicked him out. And it, well, it just made Devil damned happy.

Through his musings Devil belatedly noticed that the CD had been playing uninterrupted for about 15 minutes; when he finally got to enjoy it, he realized he had already arrived at the farm. Sighing, he stopped the motor and got out of his 4runner. There was a scratch in the paint on the passenger's side door; the guy in Crestwood had gotten a knee in the balls for that. (And he could still consider himself lucky.) The farm was rather busy in the warmth of a Kentucky noon. Duffy had explained that this place was kind of a trading point for illegal substances, only on Sundays, though, because the rest of the week it was just a farm. Hence Devil had no idea what to expect; he had never been to that kind of criminal rag fair. Hopefully he would find the guy he was supposed to pick up a package from.

It did appear to be something of a rag fair, although there were no tables or stands that offered certain products. After all this was the Dixie Mafia, they had to know how to keep crime hidden, especially when they had a trading center less than half a mile away from Fort fucking Knox. There were people running around, plenty of them, and all of them seemed to know where they were going; Devil, who had no clue whatsoever, tried to blend in and pretend he knew, too. Sauntering by one of the four giant barns (and great, he thought when he felt a simmer of unease; am I gonna be afraid of BARNS now? That had to be the most stupid phobia ever), he looked around and didn't watch his step, and as was his luck he promptly bumped into somebody.

"Oh, sorry, man, I wasn't lookin' where…" Devil's apology died down. The somebody he'd run into was tall and fat (which made for a soft landing, admittedly), and he was also John Bourgignon. And John Bourgignon was NOT pleased to see Devil again.

"What the… FUCK?!" Bourgignon stared at him with big, disbelieving eyes.

"Look, man, I'm-"

Devil didn't get far. He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say. Either way, John Bourgignon didn't let him finish.

"I don't know what you want from me, but I didn't bid NOTHIN' on that goddamned whore house, just like you said, so just leave me the fuck ALONE!"

Devil lifted a placating hand at the wheezing bear of a man who looked like he was about to piss his pants from fear. Devil had to admit he was a little proud of himself for making such an impression on another criminal, even if Bourgignon, according to Wynn Duffy, had about as much fight in himself as "a giant baby with a toupet".

"Calm the fuck down, man, I ain't here for you! Jesus Christ. People are startin' to look."

"What d'you mean you ain't here for me? What else would you be here for?"

"Well, it might come as a shock, but you ain't the only one in the world who's workin' for the Dixie Mafia, moron." Devil scratched his head. He did not want to explain this any further. For God's sake, of all the people in Kentucky, why did he have to bump into THIS guy?

At Devil's words Bourgignon relaxed a fraction. He still looked like he wanted to make a run for it (not that he would get far). His eyes seemed stuck on Devil's hands, wary that a gun might appear in one of them. Devil cleared his throat.

"Look. I'm… uh, sorry I shot you the last time we met, alright? This ain't got nothin' to do with you. I'm here to pick somethin' up."

"So… you're workin' for whom exactly?" Bourgignon looked suspicious, and like he was trying to fit a puzzle together that didn't want to fit.

"None of your concern. Now, I gotta go meet someone."

"Is it Duffy?"

That successfully froze Devil in place. "Huh?"

"I know Duffy bought Granger's whore house. Hell, everybody does. It ain't a secret. What, you thought I wouldn't figure it out that you might have somethin' to do with it?"

"I'm doin' a job for Duffy today, but far as I remember that ain't none of your concern."

Bourgignon still thought hard on whatever puzzle he was trying to solve. Devil was worried; okay, so Bourgignon could figure out who he was, that he'd had a meeting with Duffy in the past, but that didn't have to mean anything to him, nor to anyone else. People did work on the side all the time. As far as the Dixie Mafia was concerned, the disappearance of one Stacey Granger was one big mystery. Bourgignon was no Einstein, either, so he might not even figure out the important bits…

"Oh, holy shit. You're Devil Lennox."

Well, there goes that prospect out the window, Devil thought. He didn't confirm it, but he didn't deny it, either, since he didn't see the point.

"That certainly explains why Duffy was laughin' his ass off when I asked him to give you a message from me."

"It does." Devil looked around. None of the people surrounding them paid them or their conversation any mind; at least there was that. "Surprise, surprise. Gotta go now. Bye."

"No, wait." Bourgignon frowned at him. "So you did a little work on the side for Duffy back then, huh? But Quarles didn't know, right? Cause I heard it said through the grapevine that you only ever worked for Quarles and that you and Duffy didn't get along."

"I don't know where you got that from, but you better keep it to yourself."

"Duffy did buy the whore house. I heard someone shot that British dickhead in the shoulder at his house, what's his name again, Shane something, and that they did it in Duffy's name. Was that you?"

"Nope, don't know what you're talkin' bout. Never heard of no Shane." Devil crossed his arms. "How's the foot? You want me to shoot the other one, so you'll have a matchin' pair?"

"Okay, okay, kiddo" Bourgignon said, raising a hand. "I don't know any details. Jus' tell me if it's true. You and Duffy worked together on this behind Quarles's back? That's ballsy."

"Me and Duffy didn't do shit together. Keep your ideas to yourself. And if I ever find out you talked about this to anyone, ANYONE, I'mma shoot you somewhere way worse than the foot, are we clear on this" Devil growled, putting as much threat into his voice as he could. It did its job, Bourgignon looked scared again.

"Are. We. CLEAR on this?" Devil repeated his question. This was important. If word got around him and Duffy had done work together back then, it could get Devil arrested, and then this entire nightmare of killing Stacey Granger would have all been for nothing.

"Yeah, okay, we're clear. Crystal clear." Bourgignon took a step back. "Got it. Not tellin' anyone, ever. I swear."

"Good. So, uhm. You wouldn't know where I can find the, uh…" Devil pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Might as well take the chance to ask someone who knows their way around this place, he figured. "…the contrabands from overseas?"

"Sure" Bourgignon said, pointing to his right. "Jus' go that way, all the way till the end. Look for McKellen; can't miss the guy, he must be 80 or somethin', and he's the only guy here, probably in the entire world, who owns a monocle."

"Alright."

Devil turned and left without saying good-bye. He didn't want to see this man ever again. Hopefully Bourgignon would forget what he'd learned today.

Devil followed Bourgignon's instructions and crossed the farm all the way to its eastern border. There were a few small barns and trailers here, also what looked like a shipping container. And that was where Devil almost tripped over the guy who had to be McKellen: Short, skinny, back slightly bent with age, his hair was white, his nose long and his eyes sharp and dark, which gave him the appearance of a raptor. He wore reading glasses on the tip of his nose and eyed Devil over their rims with a great deal of suspicion. A golden monocle dangled from a chain around his neck.

"You McKellen?" Devil asked, trying not to let himself be deterred by a short, old man.

"Yes. And you?"

"My name's Devil" Devil answered and felt hard-pressed to add a "Sir". McKellen nodded. "Wynn Duffy sent you here?" He had a slight accent. Irish, maybe? It fit his name.

"Yeah, he did. I'm supposed to pick up a package."

The old man nodded and led him further into the container, halting next to a cardboard box of average size. "It's heavy" McKellen said, and, "it's got rather valuable contents, so be careful."

"I'mma try to reign myself in and not play football with it" Devil replied sarcastically and lifted the (really heavy) box. His own back protested a little, and Devil cursed. McKellen had already left him and positioned himself in front of the container, rummaging through another cardboard box that was almost as tall as McKellen himself. Devil murmured a farewell in passing and didn't hear one in return; he hadn't expected one from the old man.

Loading the heavy box into the trunk of his truck, Devil let himself fall gracelessly into the driver's seat and caught his breath for a moment. The cut was almost healed, but that hadn't stopped it from twinging slightly just now. Devil now had a three hour drive to Maysville before him, where he would unload the box in East 2nd Street, just a few feet from the border river to Ohio. Duffy hadn't told him who the box was for, nor what was in it, just that a woman was going to accept it and not to "ask further questions if you don't want to lose an arm". Sighing, Devil started the car and pulled onto the road. At least now the CD was playing properly and Devil enjoyed it, trying to clear his thoughts and not fall back into the heavy musings he'd done on the drive here.

On his way, Devil passed Lexington and spent a fleeting thought on Boyd's Marshal friend and what he might be doing right now, if he had anyone to spend Thanksgiving with; from what Boyd had told him, the guy had been through a messy divorce with a chick and then gotten that chick pregnant, in that order. And thinking about that, Devil wondered if maybe his love-life wasn't as screwed up as he'd always thought. It made him smile a bit as he sped over Highway 68 and gazed at the green landscape of Eastern Kentucky.

The sun was hiding behind a blanket of clouds when Devil finally arrived at his destination. The street looked thoroughly lived in, but calm and well-kempt; behind a drive way Devil could see the Ohio River and he thought he could even hear the water breaking on the shore. This looked like it could be a nice place to live.

The house he was supposed to deliver the package to was small and friendly-looking, with a tidy green lawn surrounding it. He pulled up between the two cars already parked there, effectively blocking the silver Honda, but Devil didn't care. He wouldn't be here long enough for it to be a problem. Hauling the box out of the trunk, Devil quickly carried it over to the house, resting it on a wooden bench that stood next to the door, before he stretched to get the twinge out of his back and ringing the bell. Nothing happened, so Devil rang again, twice. He heard movements behind the door, and when it was opened he came face to face with a woman that was about Devil's age, blonde, with eyes that had the color of chocolate and world-weary lines surrounding them. She frowned at him.

"How can I help you?" she asked.

"Wynn Duffy sends you a package" Devil answered, hands in his pants pockets. He nodded at the cardboard box on the bench, and the woman gazed at it through the screen door.

"He does?" she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "I thought he was kidding."

"Well, he ain't. You want me to carry it inside? It's fuckin' heavy. What's in it? Stones?"

The woman shook her head, still staring at the box. "Books" she said, and nothing more.

"Okay then" Devil shrugged. "So, should I get it, or do you wanna do it?"

"What?" The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry. Yeah, if you could get it, that would be great. My name's Anna, by the way."

"Devil" Devil introduced himself curtly and hauled the box into his arms, pulling a face. "Jesus effing Christ."

Anna opened the door for him and pointed at a wooden table just a few feet away. "Put it there."

Devil complied. "Alright" he said, brushing his hands off. "My job's done. Have fun with your books."

He turned to leave, but Anna stopped him. "Hey, wait" she said. "Devil. Tell me somethin' bout yourself."

"Huh? What? What d'you mean?"

"Just, tell me how you know Wynn." Anna looked at him so imploringly that he gave in.

"I work for him, that's it."

"How is he?"

"I, uh, I think he's okay."

"He still live in that motor home?"

"Yeah. I christened it Wynnebago, you know, with a Y. Did he ever live anywhere else?"

Anna looked around the house, contemplating. "Yeah, he did."

"Okay." Devil scratched his head. "So. I really gotta get going. It was nice to meet you, Anna. Bye."

"Wait!" Anna put a hand on his arm. "How is he? I mean, is he nice to you?"

Devil hesitated. "Is he ever nice to anybody?"

"He… yeah… well… do you like workin' for him?"

Devil wondered who this woman was and how she knew Wynn Duffy. And why she was so keen on hearing something positive about him. And why Duffy sent her illegally smuggled books from overseas. He wanted to tell her the truth, but she looked desperate in her small, beautiful white house with the perfect green lawn, and her beautiful chocolate brown eyes, and he found he couldn't do it.

"S'alright" he said. It wasn't enough for Anna, that much was obvious, but it was all he could give her.

"You take care of yourself, Devil" Anna said then, and Devil nodded awkwardly and walked out the door. He had never learned how to react when somebody he didn't know said these kinds of things to him; after his mother had just up and disappeared on him and his daddy, leaving Junior Lennox with a fulltime son, and leaving Derek in the care of a part-time miner and fulltime drunk, Devil had never taken to anyone caring about him all that much. In his teenage years he had gotten rather annoyed when people (the few that there were, like Nathan and Lewis and sometimes Nathan's daddy, uncle Steve) tried to fuss over him and tell him what's best. With the people he was close to he had learned to let it happen and accept it for what it was, but with strangers he still didn't know what to say.

On the way back to Frankfort Devil was still weirded out by that strange encounter with the woman named Anna who seemed to be connected to Duffy in some way, and wondering why Duffy had instructed Devil, of all people, to do that job that was obviously of a private nature and had nothing to do with the Dixie Mafia, if you ignored the Fort Knox Criminal Bazaar at which Devil had bumped into Bourgignon this noon. He had been driving for almost one and a half hours when he noticed he was running low on fuel; he was just crossing Georgetown on Paris Road, and when he saw a gas station he pulled over directly. It was all fields and farms in this area; across the broad street was a giant outlet store. Since it was Sunday, the entire place was deserted. There was one lone man sitting in the booth of the gas station, and he seemed to be asleep, hunched over the cash register. The sky was still clouded, and for a short moment Devil felt like he was the only person in the world.

That feeling only lasted so long. He got out of the car and started fueling the tank, and he was so lost in thought he didn't notice the three guys nearing him with brass knuckles and a baseball bat until it was too late.

The first hit with the bat hit Devil so unexpected he was practically stunned into half-consciousness, dropping to the floor in a boneless heap. Trying to get up despite utter disorientation turned out to be a bad idea, because more brass-knuckled punches followed, and he was on the ground again, nose pressed into asphalt that smelled a lot like gasoline. The guys were talking to each other, but Devil could really only make out muffled words. His vision was fading around the edges. He let out a strangled moan, which earned him another punch that finally knocked him out completely.

Devil came to again only half a minute later, although he didn't know that. As far as he was concerned, it could have been ten minutes, or even ten hours. The only clue he had that it couldn't have been that long was the fact that the muggers were still there, and desperately trying to get Devil's truck to start.

"Maybe the tank's empty?"

"No, moron, you see that? Means it's still like a quarter full, and fillin' up as we speak."

"But it ain't startin'."

"Yeah, genius, I can see that."

"So what do we do?"

"You sure it's the right set of keys?"

"The key says 'Toyota' on it, how much more sure can it get?"

"Should we hot-wire it?"

Don't you dare, Devil thought. He wanted to say something akin to that, but all that came out was a sound that a dying dog would make.

"He wakin' up?"

"Whatever, man, fucker ain't doin' nothin'."

"Let's fuckin' hot-wire that piece of shit."

"Uuugh" Devil said. It earned him nothing but a kick in the side. He knew they weren't going to reach anything with their tries to hot-wire the truck but mess up its wiring. Any other person than Boyd, Funny or Devil trying to drive the 4runner didn't get anywhere, it was one of the quirks Lewis's demise in the car had left Devil with. A rather handy protection against theft. But he didn't want these assholes to mess up the wiring. A scratch in the paint was bad enough.

"Damnit."

"How do you get that thing off?"

"Ouch!"

"Gimme the wrench."

"This one?"

"No, the one that ain't here. Of COURSE that one!"

"Jesus. I ain't the one who walked out on you for not doin' the dishes. Don't let it out on me, man."

"Shut. The FUCK. Up. Just pass me the goddamn wrench."

"Okay, this is creepy. Why'd the radio go on?"

"You musta done it."

"I didn't do shit. I turned the key in the ignition a thousand times!"

"Relax, man, it's just the motherfuckin' radio. We're gonna sell that thing anyway."

"You want me to get it out now?"

"Sure, maybe then it's gonna stop playin' this crap. What is this, ACDC?"

Highway to Hell, Devil thought, and a grin formed on his face despite the pain. Dear Lord, Lewis, you're such a drama queen.

"OUCH! The fuckin' thing electrocuted me!"

"Can't be that bad, you're still alive."

"You just get this thing off and hot-wire the car already."

Devil listened to their brainless conversation and slowly turned his head until he could see them; all three were focused on the interior of the truck and didn't pay him any mind, which gave Devil the chance to slowly push himself up. The pain that bit through his head and back almost made him shout out, but he suppressed it with all his might. If he could just get his gun before they noticed he'd moved, he would –

"Hey, he's movin'!"

A kick in the side, right onto the almost-healed knife wound, threw Devil back onto the ground. His vision was fuzzy again, kicks came from every side, and why were there suddenly so many of them?

And then it just stopped.

Devil heard a commotion, someone yelling in pain, another one in fear, and a new voice that hadn't been there before (or maybe it had, Devil really wasn't sure of anything right now) told them to beat it or get their spines ripped out. Then it was quiet, for how long Devil couldn't say, and then someone touched his arm.

"Holy mother of… Devil? Bro, can you hear me? Devil?"

Devil blinked. He could hear whoever it was clearly, just moving wasn't working so well. Neither did the talking, and he couldn't see a damn thing. It all seemed to clear up a bit then, the whole world tilted sideways, and Devil suddenly found himself puking his sparse stomach contents onto his own pants. He felt a bit better afterwards, and was finally able to lift his head a bit and look his savior in the eyes.

"Carlisle?"

"Yeah, man, it's me!"

Kevin Carlisle's big, round face was pinched in worry and anger; worry for Devil, anger at the sons of bitches who'd done this.

"What're… you doin' 'ere?" Devil slurred a bit.

"I was doin' a job for Baljakov round the corner, and I was just passin' by when I saw some guys kickin' someone who was lyin' on the ground, which is a piss poor move if you ask me, and then I saw the truck and remembered you tellin' me bout your truck and how you hated to leave it in Crestwood with those shitheads, and then I just wanted to help."

"I… uh, thank you." Devil swayed where he sat. His entire body hurt, every movement hurt, every breath was pure agony.

"…vil? Devil?"

"Wha'?"

"I said, it weren't a problem. And I should take you to see a doc or somethin', man, cause you look messed up."

"No, no, no doc. No hospital." Devil angrily blinked the spots from his vision. He desperately tried to get a clear head. "I need to, uh, I'm f… fine." He tried standing up and almost threw up again just from the pain in his head. His left hand held Carlisle's meaty forearm in a death grip to keep himself from toppling over.

"I ain't no doctor, but Devil, man, you ain't fine."

"Yeah, okay, maybe I was, ya know, overdoin' it when I said I was 'fine'…"

Devil managed to stumble over to his truck and hold himself up on the driver's side door that stood wide open. "Thank God" he breathed when he saw the intact paneling, "thank GOD they didn't actually try an' hot-wire it."

"They coulda stolen it…"

"Nah, they couldn't." Devil rested his forehead on the open door. "But they woulda messed up the wirin'. After Lewis died I had to build this truck up from the ground, and I did most of it myself… you don't mess with this truck. You just don't."

"Who's Lewis?"

"Cousin."

"Sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Sorry he died" Carlisle explained.

"S'alright" Devil murmured. "It's been so long, but sometimes it's like he never left."

The CD player started at that, and Carlisle jumped in surprise. "Jesus Christ!"

"Sorry. Happens sometimes."

"That's creepy."

"Nah, it ain't. You get used to it."

"So, Devil." Carlisle frowned like he was thinking hard. "I still wanna take you to a doctor or somethin', man."

"No. You can… uh… call Duffy. Tell him what's up. I'mma drive home now."

"You can't drive."

"I can, and I have to. S'only another half hour till I'm back in Frankfort." Devil blinked again. Yeah, he could see alright. Well, he was dizzy. And he was in a lot of pain. But he could see quite clearly, that was the most important thing.

"Okay, but… why should I call Duffy?"

Devil shrugged. "I think I did him a favor today, and the last time I did him a favor he sent me a doc, too, kinda as a present. Ah, you know what, I can do that myself when I'm home. Maybe I ain't even gonna need to, I feel better already."

"I dunno" Carlisle said, looking indecisive.

"Look, man, if you're that worried, you can follow me in your car, make sure I get home okay…"

"I don't really have a car right now" Carlisle said, looking sheepish.

"How'd you get from Coxs Creek to Georgetown without a car? That's like… 80 miles!"

"I kinda stole one" Carlisle said, looking even more sheepish now.

"Well, in that case I can take you back to Frankfort…" Devil gingerly touched his nose while checking his bruised face in the rearview mirror. Awesome, he thought. His birthday was in five days. Nina was going to be so mad at him. "But not further than that, I mean, I ain't really in the mood to drive all the way to your middle of nowhere tonight. Maybe you can crash at Keegan's? You know him?"

"Yeah, I do…"

"He might let you sleep on the couch if you tell him what you did today."

"You think?"

"Then you wouldn't have to steal another car, cause we know that really ain't a nice thing to do."

"'Kay" Carlisle said and hopped into the passenger's seat. Devil checked the tank and saw that the muggers had actually filled it up. His wallet was empty, though. Apparently they'd not only taken his car keys from him (which were still in the ignition) while he'd been unconscious, but also all the money he'd had on him.

"Shit. Uh, looks like the assholes took my money… you got some cash to pay for the fuel?"

"Sure, I got it, bro!" Carlisle covered it, and off they went to Frankfort. Devil drove slower than he had to, because he didn't entirely trust his senses. He had a concussion, that much was clear. His nose was a bit swollen, but most likely not broken. His back was killing him, though, he would have to get that checked out. He'd just call Duffy and tell him to send a doc to Keegan's place again, problem solved.

They'd been driving in silence for a few minutes, listening to the CD, when Carlisle, apropos nothing, said, "You know, you looked familiar to me when I met you this week."

Devil hissed in pain when he turned his head to gaze at Carlisle shortly. "I did?"

"Yeah, but I just couldn't figure out why. But I remember now. I know how I know you."

"How?"

"You stayed at Keegan's flat for a while, right? Couple months ago? That's where I met you."

"Oh… yeah?"

"S'okay if you don't remember, bro. We didn't even, like, talk or somethin'. I just saw you leave real early one mornin' while I was still half-asleep and Keegan said, bye, Devil."

"Huh."

"I asked round after Tuesday. People say you's a traitor to your folks down in Harlan County."

"Mmh. Do they still say that?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"You know what, I don't talk bout that shit. Could cost me my skin, man. But, let's just say, whether that's true or not, I'd be a traitor either way."

"What… what do you mean?"

"Kevin. Look." Devil gnawed on his lower lip. Carlisle didn't look like the type to rat him out. The kid barely knew him and had just saved him from a couple of assholes who could have killed Devil, just like that, just because he'd recognized Devil's truck and considered kicking someone who's already on the ground a piss poor move. "What if I told you I ain't never betrayed no-one down in Harlan, just up here in Frankfort?"

"What…"

"I'm sayin' I betrayed Quarles. I never betrayed Boyd Crowder." I almost did, he added in his mind. "I's still loyal to Boyd the entire time. I screwed Quarles over."

"Jesus, man" Carlisle said. "That's… wow. I mean, I ain't no rocket scientist, but even I know that's a stupid idea."

"Yeah, well, it worked for me."

"Shit, you're right. You're still alive. And now you're workin' for Duffy? But you're still loyal to that Crowder guy in Harlan?"

"Yeah. So… what do you say?"

"I say, fuck Quarles! That man's a piece of shit, bro, the stuff I flush down my toilet is worth more than him!"

Devil snorted a laugh. "Couldn't have phrased it better."

"You ever goin' back there? To Harlan, I mean?"

"I hope so" Devil answered honestly. "It's my home."

Carlisle nodded, an almost wistful look on his face.

"What about you? What are you doin' here, who are you workin' for?"

"Oh, well. Duffy mostly, and Baljakov. Did some stuff for the Baron, too, mostly muscle work. Seems like people think I ain't useful for anythin' else."

"But you wanna do somethin' else?"

"Yeah. I dunno." Carlisle shrugged.

"You like it, workin' for 'em?"

"Not really. I just… I like the money, it's mostly well-paid jobs, but… what you said bout Harlan, that it's your home, ya know, I wanna have that, too. I still live with my mom, but she hates me."

Devil drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and made a split second decision. He'd already told Carlisle too much to say anything else now anyways.

"Hey, Carlisle. Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure?"

"How about, when I go back to Harlan, I give you a call, and you just follow me?"

"Huh?" Carlisle looked at him with big, confused eyes. This innocent expression of confusion on the face of a 6'3'' wrestler looked entirely misplaced, and it only confirmed the first impression Devil had gotten of Kevin Carlisle: The man was a simple-minded, nice guy who was built like a brick wall, but really cared more about ties than about money. And Devil could definitely use that. As could Boyd.

"It's true, I'm workin' for Duffy, there ain't much I can do for Boyd here. 'Cept recruitin'. You get where I'm goin' with this?"

"You… wanna recruit me to work for 'em Crowder folks in Harlan?"

"Yeah, I do, man. We'd be glad to have you."

"Okay" Carlisle said without even thinking on it.

"Okay?"

"I'm totally down for it, man. When are you goin'?"

"Dude, slowly. I ain't got no idea when I'mma go back. But when I do, I'mma tell you, alright? You'll be the first to know."

"Okay. Okay." Carlisle nodded slowly to himself.

"But, one more thing. You know that you really can't tell ANYBODY about this conversation, right? Not anybody, not a single soul. Anybody hears bout me bein' a traitor to the wrong people, and I'm deep in the shit."

"No, course. I ain't tellin' nobody."

"Not even your mom."

"Especially not my mom."

"Alright then. We got a deal."

* * *

"That awesome German electronic music" that Devil's listening to is the OST to "Berlin Calling", a really great, just fantastic movie, and the soundtrack was recorded by German DJ Paul Kalkbrenner, who also starred in the movie. I have no idea how known Paul Kalkbrenner is outside Europe, but in Germany at least he's a fucking star, and rightfully so.

The Fort Knox Criminal Rag Fair is obviously a figment of my imagination. I still have no idea how a big criminal organisation works. Maybe I'll change that some day. Maybe I'll found one. Who knows?

About the Stephen King movies: Like "IT" (although the book is MUCH better), absolutely LOVE "The Shining" (me and my mom can speak the lines along with the movie by now), hate "Dreamcatcher" (because, I mean, seriously. It's just disgusting).

If you have any thoughts on this, I'd be inclined to say, do share them.


	5. Chapter 5

I do apologize for not posting this earlier, I had a busy weekend. Went to give my vote for the Bundestag election (and in the end wondered why in the hell I even bothered, which I guess is a common occurence for elections), and then watched "Batman Begins". Anyway.

Two OCs are introduced in this chapter who only peripherally appear, but who belong to TellatrixForever. Their importance will be explored, but that's another story entirely. If the name "Packer" sounds familiar to you, though, that's no coincidence.

WARNING: Cruelty to animals, hints at suicidal thoughts, prompt to suicide (in short, trigger warning, beware).

Enjoy!

* * *

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2

The Inside Woman

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

Nina woke up early, an entire twenty minutes before her alarm clock. She couldn't say what had woken her; the sun hadn't risen yet, it was still dark outside, a sure sign that winter was nearing. Devil was sound asleep next to her, even when she turned around to look at him, slipping his hand from her behind in the process, he didn't stir. This was one of the times Nina liked to take a few minutes to outright stare at Devil; she couldn't do it when he was awake, because he'd get twitchy and ask her what she was looking at. Watching someone sleep was something both of them found creepy, so Nina never told him that she did sometimes like to indulge in it. In the dark she could still see the bruises on his face and arms that he'd come home with a few days prior. They'd faded to an ugly dark scarlet mixed with tinges of yellow, and the swelling had gone down.

The first emotion Nina had felt when Devil limped through the door had been shock; the second had been worry, the third, predictably, anger at what he had gotten himself into because, as was his custom he hadn't told her what he would be up to that day. He never did, unless Nina asked, and she hadn't, not that day. Devil's nose had been slightly swollen, traces of dried blood surrounding it, and his right forehead and cheek, as well as his left eye, were also swollen and covered in angry, big, purple bruises. Obviously it hurt him to move. When she helped him undress she understood why: Large-scale bruising on his back had to make his every move pure agony.

"Okay, now tell me what happened" Nina had said, crossing her arms and standing in front of him as he was sitting, or rather, slumping, on the couch, Impatiently tapping her foot, Nina felt like a pedantic school teacher; and that motion wasn't too far-fetched because she was starting to ask herself when this man was going to learn how to come home without having injured himself.

Devil had rolled his eyes, as much as he was able to, anyway, and sighed. "I got mugged."

"What've you been up to today?"

Devil had frowned, like he was having trouble following her line of thought. He might have a concussion, Nina had thought. That can't be good.

"I just delivered a package today."

"Yeah, right."

"No, babe, I swear. It was a box full of books, smuggled in from overseas, though I dunno who would go to so much trouble just for a couple BOOKS…"

"Books?"

"Yeah. Books. I picked 'em up at Fort Knox, delivered 'em to a chick in Maysville, and in Georgetown I was runnin' low on fuel, and at the gas station some guys thought it would be a great idea to ambush me and steal my truck."

Nina's eyes had widened. "Did they steal it?"

"Nah. I got help from a guy I know who was there by coincidence. They tried to, though." Devil shifted and groaned in pain. "Assholes." He closed his eyes. "Did take all the cash I had on me. 400 bucks, gone with the wind."

"Bastards!" Nina kicked the couch table in frustration. "Alright. Now, you need to go see a doc, okay? Please."

"I'mma call someone, babe, they'll have it covered."

"What does that even MEAN!" Nina threw her hands in the air. "Who're you gonna call?"

"Ghostbusters" Devil sing-songed and laughed, then doubled over in pain when laughing turned out to be a bad idea. Nina huffed a small laugh herself and sat down next to him.

"Devil, please. If you could see yourself. You look like you got hit by a semi."

Devil wouldn't be deterred, though. He'd called someone while she was in the bathroom, and she could hear his muffled end of the conversation, how he recounted the events of the day and then said, "You owe me, Duffy. Pay up", and when she came back, he'd already hung up and told her the next day he would go to Keegan's and get treatment there. Nina didn't like it, of course not, had even asked him why the doctor couldn't come to her flat instead so Devil wouldn't have to drive the six blocks. But Devil's sharp "NO" had definitely eliminated that possibility.

Nina would have still liked to join Devil when he went to get his treatment the next day, but she couldn't. She did however call Keegan from work and told him to tell her exactly what the doctor would say, in all details, just in case Devil wanted to let some things fall under the table. It hadn't been necessary, because Keegan's report coincided with Devil's: Bruises everywhere, especially deep bruising in the back, possibly a pulled muscle in the upper back/shoulder area, and a slight concussion. The doctor's advice ("Put ice on it and hope for the best") didn't necessarily put Nina's worries at rest.

"Put ICE on it? HOPE?! POSSIBLY a pulled muscle?! What kinda doctor is this, huh? What's he treat normally? Sheep?!"

And Devil put ice on his back, nodded along with her and let her rant herself tired. That night Devil fell asleep with Nina carefully massaging his back around the bruising to soothe the possibly pulled muscle, and she lay awake next to him for a long time, thinking about him, and how now it became clear that she was more likely to lose him through his "job" than any disputes and fights the two of them could ever have. If she had ever ranted to Nick about HIS health the way she had to Devil that day, Nick would have thrown insults at her until she was crying in a corner somewhere.

And today was October 25th, and it was Devil's birthday. It was also a Thursday, which meant that Nina had to work and couldn't spend the day with Devil. She had really wanted to wake him, maybe give him something to think about until she came home this afternoon, but when she saw how peaceful he appeared in his sleep (and how the fading bruises made him look a bit pitiable, too) she just couldn't go through with it. Switching off the alarm before it could go off, she quietly slipped out of bed and got ready for the day. Before leaving she wrote Devil a note and put it on her pillow.

'Happy birthday, baby. I'll get off earlier today and cook for you, and then you'll get your present, too. Have a nice day.

Love, N.'

It was short and to the point and forewent any exaggerated endearments, just as Devil preferred. They had been together for over two months, properly dating for about a month, Nina had realized her feelings only a week and a half ago. This was all still new, even though it seemed sometimes that they'd known each other much longer.

The day at work passed amazingly quickly, considering Nina had issues concentrating. She was too anxious to get out of here, buy a small cake and some steaks and a bottle of Sangster's. Also she was nervous about whether Devil would like the present she'd gotten for him. Nina had thought long and hard on what would be fitting, and then one day she'd just stumbled over the perfect idea on ebay, completely by accident. For Nick, she'd always gotten clothes, one time a coupon for a haircut. Since Devil barely cared about these things, Nina had had to re-think her gifting strategies and start from stretch.

At 2 o'clock Frank had mercy on her and sent her home. She thanked him profusely, promising she would make up for it, before hightailing it out of there and running straight to the next grocery store she could find.

Nina made it home by half past four, and when she got her set of keys out to unlock the apartment door, it was opened from the inside and Devil greeted her with a smile and a "Finally". Nina dropped her bags and hugged him as tightly as she dared, saying, "Happy birthday, Derek" directly in his ear.

"Derek, huh" Devil said, reluctantly releasing her. "You ain't never called me that."

Nina shrugged. "Tryin' somethin' new for the special occasion."

"Is it workin'?"

"Nah, not for me."

"Me either" Devil grinned. "So, you're cookin' for me?"

"Oh yeah!" Nina picked up the grocery bags and kicked the door shut. "Let me just put this away first, and then I'mma give you your present."

"Can't wait for it." Devil rubbed his hands together, expectantly.

Nina put the groceries in the fridge and gnawed on her lower lip. Oh, shut up, she told herself. He's gonna love my present. There's no reason why he wouldn't. Still she was suppressing a worried frown when she gave him his present that she'd hidden in her sock drawer. Sitting on the couch, Devil didn't take his time to be careful un-wrapping the gift, tearing the paper to shreds impatiently like a little kid on Christmas and ripping the non-descript cardboard box open abrasively.

"Wow" Devil said and stared at his gift. "That's… not what I expected."

"Is it okay?" Nina asked anxiously. "I mean, I… I dunno, I just thought it might be of use to you, you know, with the kinds of things you do…"

Devil carefully lifted the knife out of the box, all abrasiveness from before completely forgotten. It was a Smith and Wesson Neck Knife with a three-inch-long drop point blade and black Zytel onlay handles and finger notches for a better grip. The stainless steel of the blade simmered dimly, a silvery gray, the small "Smith & Wesson" imprint giving it a somewhat noble sheen. Honestly, Nina had no ideas whatsoever about knives. She'd just read the reviews about different ones on knifecenter and picked the one she thought looked best.

Devil didn't comment, just stared at the brand new tactical knife in his hand, and Nina, unsettled, asked, "So, what do you think?"

Devil looked at her then. "Nina, it's perfect" he said, like she was stupid to ever have believed anything else.

"Really?" She was honestly stumped.

"Of course." Devil gripped the handle and let the light break on the bead blast finish. "It's… beautiful, babe. Where in the hell did you get that idea?"

Nina shrugged. "Ebay" she answered, grinning, relieved.

"Ebay."

"Yeah. I mean, I ain't got no clues about this kinda thing, obviously, but the reviews about this one were all really good, and, it's got a sheath with a chain so you can wear it around your neck…"

"Sure does" Devil laughed quietly, fishing said sheath out of the box.

"And I also got you a grind stone, even though I ain't sure it's the right one, or if you even need one…"

"Nina, this is the best goddamn gift EVER." Devil carefully set the knife aside on the table before gripping her and pulling her into a kiss. It almost turned into a make-out session, but Nina pulled back. "Are you only sayin' this to be nice?"

"I swear, I ain't. Believe me, this is the best birthday gift I've ever gotten, EVER. If you'd gotten me, like, a sweater or somethin', I might have lied to you, but this?" Devil shook his head. "It's just the coolest thing ever."

"I am SO glad to hear this, you have no idea."

"It musta cost a fortune, though" Devil said, frowning. Actually it was only 19,95 $, Nina thought, minus the probably redundant grindstone. But she didn't tell him that. She just shook her head. "Nah, it didn't. Don't worry bout it, baby. It's your birthday."

"It is, indeed. Damn."

Nina gave him another kiss and stood up. "And now I'mma make us some steaks."

"Did anyone ever tell you you're THE perfect woman?" Devil struggled to his feet, mindful of his aching back, and drew Nina in close.

"Nah. But I could get used to hearin' that more often."

They did kiss again, long and sweet, and instead of letting her go when their lips parted Devil tightened the hug and buried his nose in her neck. It reminded Nina of another moment they'd shared, even though back then Devil had been drenched to the bone and on the border to a nervous breakdown; it had been the moment that had gotten them to where they were now.

* * *

_Something had changed about Devil, and it was worrying Nina a great deal. Last week he had come home in the early morning hours, just shortly before Nina had to get up for work. She recalled foggily asking him where he'd been and him answering with an evasive "Nowhere", and Nina fell asleep again without being sure it had not just been a dream. But something had definitely happened. Devil was moody and cold towards her, closed off, his facial expression frozen in a stony seriousness that reminded Nina uncomfortably of when Nick was about to throw a temper tantrum. _

_The tantrum never came with Devil, though. An entire week he barely looked at her, barely cracked a smile, and even when he did it seemed insincere like a bad act. Nina wanted nothing more than ask him what he had been up to, but she knew it would be pointless, he never told her. They had sex once that week, just once, and it was the first time (not counting the first night when he'd been drunk off his ass) that he could not look her in the eye. It felt wrong, and not nearly as enjoyable as it normally was, and Nina felt fairly abused when Devil was done and just rolled away without saying even good night. Meekly, she got up and cleaned herself in the bathroom, shedding a few tears, because, did she really only fall for the asshole ones who only used her and then turned their backs? _

_He was gone the next day when she came home from work, and he returned in the early evening hours, looking outraged and disturbed, and when Nina greeted him with a hesitant smile for a second she thought Devil didn't recognize her. Then he blinked, like he was confused, and said, "Hey, babe" and he gave her a smile that was so pained and forced it almost felt like a blow to her stomach. She was about to say something else, though what it was going to be she didn't know, when Devil said, "I really need a shower" and brushed by her. Seeing his face up close, she could tell something was eating at him. Nina wanted so desperately to know how she could help._

_The next night Nina lost her patience. They were eating dinner, or rather, Nina was, Devil was just poking at the stir-fried vegetables. He had to have lost at least three pounds in the last week, Nina thought, because he just wasn't eating. At least never when Nina was around. Sighing, Nina put down her fork. Devil didn't look up from his plate._

"_Devil, what's wrong?"_

"_What d'you mean?" Devil asked in return. He didn't need to look at her for Nina to know he was bullshitting her._

"_Devil, come on. I ain't stupid, and I ain't blind neither. Somethin' is UP with you and I wanna know what the fuck it is."_

_Devil frowned, but didn't answer. It seemed he was thinking about her question, which Nina already counted as a success, but when he finally lifted his gaze, he just said, "I don't know." He said it slowly, like he wasn't sure it was right. He seemed to be struggling just to get these three syllables out._

_Nina was certain her face told Devil that she didn't believe him. "Devil-"_

_He didn't let her finish. He got up and went to bed, even though it was only eight, leaving a full plate behind. He hadn't eaten one bite. Nina cried again while doing the dishes. She felt weak for letting herself be treated this way, because she'd thought that when she'd kicked Nick to the curb that part of her life would be behind her. But this was different. Devil was different. He just had to be. This change in him had happened from one day to the next, and something so instantaneous had to have a specific origin; it hadn't been there all along, or she would have seen that side of him sooner. _

_The next night, she woke up in the middle of the night and immediately sensed Devil was awake next to her. She pretended to still be sleeping, and she felt his hand carefully playing with a strand of her hair. This was the Devil she knew, she was sure, the one who had smiles and grins for her and that funny way of his to laugh about his own jokes that made Nina laugh right along. She thought she heard thunder in the distance and just wished that everything went back to how it had been so short a time ago._

_Nina got her wish, no, more than that, the next afternoon. She'd been so unfocused at work that Frank sent her home earlier, saying she looked like she might get sick, and Nina didn't even have it in her to disagree. That was why she was there when the door opened and a ruffled Felicity sped in and made her way right to the kitchen, and behind her followed Devil. He was drenched to the bone, like he'd taken a walk in the thunderstorm that was raging outside, and Nina got up to ask him why he hadn't waited till it passed if he'd been around without his car. All of those words dissolved into thin air when she looked into his face and all she saw was pure, absolute devastation. Nina was completely thrown, she had never seen Devil like this. He looked like he'd been crying._

"_Devil…" Nina didn't really know what to say. "Is… are you okay?"_

_Instead of answering with words, Devil rushed over to her and pulled her into a crushing hug. He was shaking, probably from being cold, but it could have been something else, as well._

"_I missed you." Nina could barely make out the words. "I'm sorry."_

_The wave of relief that swapped over Nina's head could have made her knees go soft if Devil hadn't still been crushing her with his arms. So she HAD been right. Something had been up and he'd noticed himself that he was behaving like an ass, and now he was apologizing and everything would be okay again._

"_You're drenched to the bone, Devil, what the hell?" she asked softly, hoping he would explain, but he didn't. He just pushed his nose into her neck and breathed in deeply._

"_Sorry" he said, again, and he sounded so broken. Nina didn't really know how to react to this, so she just told him it was alright (and really, it was; how could she be MAD at him now?) and hugged him back tightly, only now realizing how dripping wet he really was, until she could feel him start to relax a fraction. Then she carefully loosened his arms around her waist and forced him to look at her._

"_Devil. What happened?"_

_He was frowning, like he hated the answer. "I can't tell you."_

"_Tell me what you can tell me, then, babe" Nina said, trying her hardest not to let her frustration show at his evasive answer. "Come on, there's gotta be somethin' you can say. You've been distant lately" which was fairly understated. "What the fuck happened to you?"_

_Devil stammered something about having had to do something he didn't want to do, and Nina barely understood it, but at his next words, her heart melted, because, seriously? This was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her._

"_You're the best thing that's happened to me in quite some time, an' everythin' I do is the same with you there, just… better."_

_Nina couldn't help it. She beamed. "Devil, is that your fucked up way of askin' me if I wanna be your girlfriend?"_

"_And what if it is?"_

"_Then I say yes."_

_And that was that. _

* * *

Devil and Nina spent the holidays in a peaceful reverie together, celebrating Devil's birthday by having as much sex as Devil's aching back would allow (which was a LOT when Nina was on top) and spending not a minute apart from the minute Nina came home from work the next day until Thanksgiving. They went to Keegan's for Halloween and watched movies until 3 am. During "Dreamcatcher" Nina mostly kept her face pressed into Devil's shoulder, squeaking and shuddering in disgust and fear, and Devil had a flashback to their first date when they went to see "Prometheus" at the movies and Nina passed the entire two hours of amazingly compelling visual effects much the same way.

Devil had consciously not told anyone but Nina about his birthday. Neither Funny nor Keegan had any idea he'd turned 36 six days ago. He was, despite the notion to surround himself with people he'd had from a very early age on, a private person, especially here in Frankfort where people really didn't know jack shit about him and he would have liked to keep it that way. Nina, who had no idea Devil had kept his birthday a secret, blurted it out to Funny and Keegan who could not be deterred from singing him "Happy Birthday" after a lot of beers had already been downed. Devil took it all in with a smile. Boyd had called to wish him a happy birthday, too. And really it had been a happy birthday, maybe the happiest Devil had had in a very long time.

Thanksgiving was mostly spent sleeping off the hangover from Halloween, and eating turkey sandwiches in the kitchen. Nina fed some pieces of her turkey to Felicity who munched on it noisily and looked thoroughly satisfied with herself. On Black Friday Nina had to work again, and Devil was lounging on the couch watching a news report on some guy who was suspected to have killed 43 people, the most recent victim being a US Marshal. They interviewed another Marshal on the case, a tall, middle-aged guy with long black hair that he wore in a ponytail, possibly Native American, who looked put-together, but hard to assess.

"William Packer was wanted for numerous felonies committed in several states across the country, including West Virginia" the guy was saying, his insert identifying him as Luke Black Hawk, "and hopefully justice for what he has done will be served very soon. The United States Marshal Service worked closely with the FBI to find this man…"

The Marshal (and if his last name was actually Black Hawk, Devil thought absent-mindedly, he had to be Native American, right?) was talking clearly and slowly, like he wanted every word to be understood and kept like a treasure, but Devil was shortly side-tracked when he heard the name Willie Packer. That name rang a bell, although Devil couldn't place it. He was so centered on remembering where he'd heard that name before he missed his cell phone ringing for almost half a minute. To be fair, though, it was all Funny's fault; when Devil had been in the bathroom on Halloween, Funny had stolen Devil's cell phone and only gave it back once he'd installed "You give love a bad name" by Bon Jovi as the new ring tone, so Devil didn't even realize it was HIS cell phone that was making this annoying noise. He caught it on the last ring, eyes still glued to the TV and the Marshal speaking about Willie Packer, the serial killer.

"Yo" Devil said to the unknown number.

"Mr. Devil! I hope you had pleasant holidays?" Wynn Duffy greeted him on the other end.

"Mmmh" Devil answered distractedly.

"Am I interrupting something, Mr. Devil?"

"Wha'?"

"You seem distracted."

"Yeah. What? No. Sorry." Devil turned the TV on silent and sighed. "Sorry. I, uh, saw somethin' on the news. So… what did you say?"

"So far I didn't say anything, Mr. Devil, but ask you if your holidays were good, but I'll just take a wild guess and say they were. Actually I was calling about a job."

"Figured as much."

"Oh, and a happy belated birthday."

Devil frowned. "How the hell'd you know it was my birthday?"

"I believe I told you I looked into your records when we first met" Wynn Duffy answered conversationally.

"Oh. Right. Y'know, I did wonder where the hell you guys got those from, I mean, it's my criminal records, right? Ain't they supposed to be like confidential and shit?"

"I believe I also told you once that half the police in and around Frankfort are corrupt."

"Mmh. Fair point. Thanks anyway."

"You're welcome. Now, about the job."

"I'm listenin'?"

"Have you ever heard of The Baron?"

"Sure. Carlisle told me he worked a few jobs for him." Devil rubbed his forehead. "Honestly, though, I ain't sure I want anythin' to do with this guy. Sounds like an A-List asshole, if you ask me."

"Course he is, he's a motherfucking bastard. But, he also pays very well."

"Yeah, well, he can stick his money up his ass if he wants me to kill anyone for him, I'mma tell you that much."

"Oh, don't hate on me, Mr. Devil" Duffy said, and Devil could just hear him grin, "I'm just the messenger. At least listen to the offer and what it entails before you say no and hang up on me as rudely as you always do."

"Fine. Start speakin'."

The Baron, whose actual name was Bernard Trust, was called the Baron because he was the Baron of loans in Kentucky; everybody, no matter the background, criminal history or income and output, could go to him and get money. Unfortunately for them, Bernard Trust relied on the very human nature to not think something through to the bitter end, and he was almost always right to rely on that, because very few of his clients actually managed to pay their debts back and had it all end nice and fair for them. The major portion of Trust's clients were suddenly overrun with the Baron's demands to pay him his money back plus a 50 percent interest, and since most of them couldn't meet these obligations, they were frequent hosts of leg breakers and their likes.

In short, Bernard Trust was a violent, insidious rip-off, and Devil really wanted no part in his perfidious games. But, on the other hand, the job WAS really well-paid, and it sounded simple enough. There would be no killing involved, either. Just pay a visit to some guy and look if he's home, and if Devil did find him, he would just have to tell this guy, who, according to Duffy, went by the name of Donald Sartor, to start paying off his debts with Trust. The good thing was, even if the guy wasn't home when Devil visited him, Devil would still get paid, only it wasn't much. Should Devil find the guy, though, and manage to convince him to pay, Devil would get a LOT of money.

The catch, and of course there always was one, was that Sartor owed the Baron a ridiculously large amount of money and was at the same time the most evasive client the Baron had ever had; very few people had ever managed to get a hold of him, and nobody had ever been able to convince him so far. Sartor just hid himself in his basement and let the eleven guard dogs he held chained around the house scare off the few people who would try to get inside. It was a tactic that had worked on the Baron so far. But Devil was aware that it would not work forever. And even if it did, what kind of life was this, taking cover in a basement bunker and hiding away from your own mistakes?

So Devil made the drive to Burgin, a small place near Harrodsburg, a few days after the phone call, thinking about how this was a win-win job, because he would get paid, no matter what; but he did it with a queasy stomach. He hadn't been lying to Duffy when he had said he wanted no part with this asshole Trust. The Baron profited from the misery and disrepair of (mostly) innocent people, and he did it without blinking an eye; he pretended to be all nice and social because he lent everybody, from the hapless widow with four children to the business broker with a Mercedes in his drive way, the money they needed, and the catch (because, oh yeah, there was most definitely a big catch) was that he in turn treated everybody the same when they couldn't pay it back in time, and the leg breakers broke legs for everybody, from the hapless widow with four children to the business broker with his shiny Mercedes. And now Devil had to be a part of this vicious circle, him of all people, who knew exactly the pointlessness of it?

He had to have been still drunk from Halloween to take on this job. Still it sounded like a safe bet, and he needed the goddamned money.

The corner of Burgin that Devil was headed to was a rural landscape, the streets long and the houses far apart; despite the bright sunshine of this day, the colors here looked washed out, the atmosphere appeared tired. Devil didn't even need to look for a house number, he knew which one it was when he heard the dogs barking themselves hoarse from hunger and confinement as he drew closer. The house was small, the grass and weeds surrounding it brown and dying from lack of care and too much dog piss. Devil parked his truck twenty feet from the house, in the middle of the long driveway, and slowly walked up to the dogs who went stir crazy when they smelled him. Most of them were haggard and sick-looking; all of them reeked of dirt and their own excrements.

The building looked empty, abandoned. If Sartor was home, he had to know someone was here to see him, based on the increasing level of noise coming from his guard dogs. Devil walked up as close to the house as he could without losing a limb to one of the dogs. Most of them were bound to the house with chains about five feet long, but one of them was on a chain that had to be about three feet longer, and it threw itself into it so desperately it managed to graze Devil's hand with its nose when Devil didn't pay enough attention for a split second. Devil jerked back and gave the dog a kick that sent it flying.

His attention diverted for another precious second, Devil only noticed the shotgun leveled at his face when he heard it being cocked. His head jerked up, his hand instinctively reaching for the Beretta in his belt, but a gravelly voice stopped him mid-motion.

"Don't even think bout it" Donald Sartor snarled lowly.

"Alright" Devil said and held his hands out in front of him. "I won't."

"Good." Sartor scrutinized him, took quick inventory of his outward appearance, his tattoos, clothing, the fact that he was obviously itching to reach for the gun he was packing, the fact that he was not retreating even though there was a gun leveled at him. It told him everything he needed to know about Devil and his reasons for being here, on Sartor's grounds. Devil reckoned that, as long as Sartor had been hiding from the Baron, he had to have gotten a lot of practice at scrutinizing people.

"You here cause of Trust?"

"Oh, well" Devil said, rocking on his feet, "how'd you know?"

It was obviously a joke, but either Sartor had a rather vestigial sense of humor, or he was not very smart, because he got really angry with Devil. "You shut up! You tryin' to shit me here, man? I know exactly what you came here for!"

"Good. Then why don't you just" Devil shrugged, "give me some money, man, an' we're all happy as a tick on a fat dog."

"And what if I ain't got no money to give to you, huh? What then?" Sartor was trying on a fake threatening demeanor, and Devil could see his nervousness underneath clear as day. The shotgun was shaking, and Sartor himself, now that Devil got a closer look at him, looked almost as malnourished as his dogs; there probably wasn't much to eat when you spent twenty hours a day in your woodlouse-infested basement hoping not to get killed.

"Then I'mma just walk away, cause then there ain't nothin' to get."

Devil said it slowly, looking Sartor right in the eyes. He wondered how many of the guys the Baron had sent here had actually honored the term "leg breaker" and tried to or successfully did break Sartor's legs or other body parts. Maybe they'd even shot him. Sartor was heavily favoring his left leg and right arm. He had to expect physical harm, or he wouldn't have taken the shotgun with him to check who was out there driving his dogs crazy. So Devil, with the small talent he had for predicting people, reckoned that Sartor had already experienced any form of violence anyone could inflict upon him, and that if there was anything, ANYTHING, he would not be able to handle, it would be words, just words. If there was anything left that could get through to Sartor, it would be just walking away and leaving him to wallow in his misery of a life alone. From the looks of him, Sartor had gone half-insane already, anyway.

"You what?"

"You heard me. There ain't nothin' to get from you, I'mma just leave you to it. Trust's gon' send someone else who's gonna be more inclined to beat the shit outta you in no time. It don't matter to me, man, I'll get paid either way."

Devil turned to leave, and the round being fired into the ground before his feet effectively froze him in place. Unhastily he turned back to Sartor on his porch, the barrel of his sawed-off still smoking.

"Yeah?" Devil said patiently as if Sartor had just asked him for his help on something.

"You's just gon' go now?"

"Yeah. Like I told you, I'mma get paid either way and Trust's gonna send someone else here soon enough. It's entirely up to you how this goes."

"Bullshit" Sartor spat, looking severely confused. The shotgun was shaking even more now, and Devil thought it was an absolute miracle Sartor had missed him with it; although, maybe Sartor had meant to shoot somewhere else entirely.

"No bullshit. I'm just here to ask you if you got money, bro, and that's IT."

"Bullshit! I ain't got no money, so just KILL me already!"

Devil sighed. "I ain't gonna do that. If you got a death wish, you gotta take care of that yourself. So far you're doin' a real shitty job of it, though. I mean, look. You can continue this fucked-up game of hide-and-seek for like, another year or somethin', and then the Baron's guys ARE gonna kill you, and from what I've heard of the bastard, they're gonna do it very slowly and painfully. Or" Devil took a step forward in Sartor's direction. The sawed-off hung from his fingers, almost forgotten. "Or, you're gonna give me somethin' to take back to Trust now so that you'll be able to wipe off at least a part of your debt and get some air."

Sartor blinked at him.

"Come on, man. Get it together. Sell 'em dogs, get a job, get your fuckin' life on the line. You ain't no criminal. You can't even kill yourself."

Sartor stared at him, and the shotgun fell from his hands. The dogs had been barking themselves hoarse throughout their conversation until the shot had scared them quiet for a minute; now they took their howling right up again. There was much that had not been said in this conversation. But Sartor seemed to get the gist of it, if the tears and snot running down his face were anything to go by. He disappeared into his house for two minutes without saying a word, and Devil, not sure if he should wait, stayed right where he was in front of the porch, and when Sartor returned he pressed two golden rings into Devil's hand.

"S'my grandma's" he said. "Dunno how much they're worth, but there's a pawn shop in Harrodsburg."

"Alright, man" Devil said and nodded. He didn't really know what to say now; he hadn't expected to get through to Sartor. "That's… cool."

Sartor just nodded, a slight breeze blowing his long, dark, dirty hair in strands around his head like a dark cloud surrounding him. Then he locked himself up in his house again, and the underfed dogs barked and tried to get a piece of Devil where he walked past them back to his truck. Devil got behind the wheel, but he didn't drive for a long time, he just sat there and stared at Sartor's house. This man, Donald Sartor, was pretty much dead already, even if he still had a house and half of his sanity. Maybe the two rings in Devil's hand would make a difference; most likely they would not. And either Devil's speech about how he wasn't a criminal if he couldn't even kill himself had shaken Sartor awake and he really would try and get his shit together now; or he had given Devil the rings to pawn so he would have some air to kill himself in peace. The man had a shotgun and rounds for it, but no food. You couldn't eat rounds for a shotgun just as you couldn't eat debts, or gold rings.

There was some big thought jumping around in Devil's head, always evading him just as he thought he had grasped it. It was confusing, but if there was one thing Devil knew, it was this: He would not see Donald Sartor again, no matter what decision Sartor might make. Every man is an island; so Devil would continue to live his really not that shitty life and Sartor would live his less than livable life, or end it, or have it ended, and the world would keep turning, no matter what either of them would do.

Devil started his motor with these thoughts in mind, and the CD player stayed silent as the night now as he backed out of Sartor's long driveway. Devil decided in that moment that he needed a break from this business. He hoped he would get one soon.

* * *

I'm aware that Kevin Rankin's birthday is in April, but for the purposes of this story I moved Devil's birthday to October, and chose the 25th because (at least according to wikipedia) it's the birthday of Anne Tyler, author of "The Accidental Tourist", one of my favorite books. The present Nina chose for Devil, well, TellatrixForever inadvertently gave me the idea for a knife, and then I found the useful site knifecenter . com and just chose the one that I thought looked best. I really do know shit about knives. Stole the idea to have Nina buy it on ebay from a movie I like very much (because it's got a lot of shirtless - and one time even pants-less - Timothy Olyphant in it). If you know which one I mean you get... hugs! (It's also a really well-made, exciting thriller, btw.)

I have to say I'm happy with this chapter. It's been a while since I wrote it. If I remember correctly The Baron was mentioned before, and he will be mentioned again. I think. (Seems this story is developing an autonomous evolution.)


	6. Chapter 6

In this chapter an OC shows up that had a rather minor role in Part 1, so you might or might not remember him. If not there ain't no need to worry because it'll be recapped here. The idea to let him come back was there already when I put the finishing touches on Part 1, but the how came to me rather spontaneously.

WARNING: Dropping of the n-word and the c-word, graphic descriptions of violence.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2

The Inside Woman

* * *

Chapter 6

* * *

"Actually I got great news for you, man."

"Do tell, Devil, my friend."

"Well, you remember when you told me to do my thing, you know, what I do best? Make friends and shit?"

"Like it was yesterday."

"Yeah, well. I think I found someone for you."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

"Well, would you care to tell me more about this fella? Who is he, where does he come from, and why would he express an interest in joinin' forces with folks in Harlan County and leave the profitable ventures of the Dixie Mafia behind? You did make it clear we do not cooperate with them folks in Frankfort?"

"Yeah, yeah, course, Boyd, I ain't no idiot. His name's Carlisle, Kevin Carlisle, I did a job with him for some Russian dickhead that got us arrested up in Athens, Ohio-"

"Arrested? Devil, you never mentioned that. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it was no big deal, I called Duffy and he posted my bail, he'd said he would do it beforehand, because, I mean, movin' a hundred pounds of cocaine is kind of a risky business, right?"

"Right. I see."

"Anyway, so Carlisle. We did this job, and then few days before my birthday I was passin' through Georgetown and I was runnin' low on fuel, and when I stopped at a gas station a couple assholes thought it would be a great idea to try an' mug me. Knocked me out, tried to steal my truck, and Carlisle was there by accident and totally helped me out. I mean, they wouldn't have managed to take my truck, but those fuckers beat the shit outta me, and I was in bad shape."

"But you're fine now?"

"S'okay. My back still aches sometimes. I didn't wanna go to a hospital, and the doc that Duffy sent said to put ice on it and hope for the best. But, I'm fine."

"And this Carlisle person helped you?"

"Yeah, Boyd. Guy's built like a brick shit house, like Bowman was, he could crush your Marshal friend with one hand."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet, Devil. You trust him?"

"I do."

"Why, if you don't mind me askin'? He aided you in a dangerous situation, that sounds mighty white of the man, but that ain't sufficient proof of a trustworthy character."

"Well, you need to talk to him. He's kinda dumb, but the friendly kind, and he does what you tell him to, not like Dewey. He ain't no A-List moron, is what I mean. He's jus'… simple, you know? And he wants outta Frankfort. He lives with his mom in this tiny place in the middle of nowhere, in Coxs Creek, and he hates it there, and he likes the money he makes for the Baron and that Russian asshat, but he ain't happy with it. Says he's sick of doin' nothin' but muscle work, and that he wants a place to call home."

"He tell you that?"

"With these words."

"Huh. Well, that does indeed sound promisin'."

"Right? And when I told him I might not have betrayed you so much as I betrayed Quarles, he said, fuck Quarles, and that the guy is worth less than shit. And, well, I kinda agreed with him on that."

"Don't we all. So you told him that you betrayed Robert Quarles, and he was fine with it."

"Definitely. And then I asked him, when I return to Harlan, if he might wanna tag along, and he was totally down for it, he practically wanted to pack his shit and go right now. I'm tellin' you, Boyd, he could be good."

"I like what I'm hearin', on all accounts, Devil. Well done."

"Yeah. Well. Now, there's the obvious question of when exactly I'mma…"

"Soon, Devil, I promise you."

* * *

Devil did get paid a lot of money when he brought the cash he'd gotten for the rings in Harrodsburg back to Bernard Trust, and he got another job offer right along with it; but Devil still had this ambiguous thought swimming around in his head that made him feel depressed, and he was indecisive about whether, if Donald Sartor killed himself now because of what Devil had said, Devil had done Sartor a favor or not. He wanted to push those thoughts away, put them in a box and bury it somewhere deep in his mind so he could forget, and working with the Baron on a daily basis would not aid him with that. Needless to say, the Baron was also as evil as they get, and a slimy bastard, and Devil REALLY didn't like him. Hence saying no to the offer was easy and satisfying.

He drove home with the one thought in his mind that he was really, REALLY lucky compared to others. This was not a thought he had on a daily basis. To have it now, while he was in Frankfort, after all he'd been through so far, was indeed a bit ironic, but it was true. Devil had Nina. He had friends, he had money, he had a place to live, and he had a home, even if he couldn't be there at the moment. Being home was something else, but just knowing it was there was worth a lot all in itself. Devil decided in that moment that he would try and appreciate life a bit more.

The following week Devil did little jobs here and there, met up with Carlisle again to pick something up for Baljakov, even if both of them weren't thrilled at the prospect of possibly getting arrested again, but it was a clean job this time; it was just a twenty-pound bag of weed, and they didn't get stopped by anyone. The car they took was an old gray Saab that smelled like rotten bananas, and Devil had to leave his 4runner in Crestwood in the shady backyard again, but the guy who showed them to their rental ride seemed to be afraid of Devil now and had another guy who worked there promise Devil that his car would be treated with the utmost of care.

He did not hear anything from Duffy until the middle of the next week. It was shortly after the conversation with Boyd, and Devil was lounging on the couch because his back really was aching a little and there was not much he could do; he had stuffed Nina's hot water bottle between the back rest of the couch and himself and felt like a girl for using it, but it helped a bit. Nina didn't believe in the healing powers of these bags, but she owned one nonetheless. His cell phone rang again, and for a second Devil thought Boyd might have forgotten something he really needed to tell him, but it was Duffy. The man had taken to calling him without his number being hidden, so there actually stood the initials W.D. on his cell display. Devil sighed and answered it.

"S'up."

"Hello there, Mr. Devil, nice to hear you be as articulate as ever. I need you to come by, now."

"Why now? What for?"

"None of your concern, and you'll find out when you get here. Trust me, it'll be worth it."

"Wh-"

"Let's keep this short, shall we. I'm in Corinth, Saylor Point Road."

"The hell you doin' in Corinth?"

"Lovely camping sites here. Saylor Point Road. I'll be expecting you in an hour."

Duffy disconnected the call without further ado, and Devil sighed, leaning his head heavily on the back of the couch. Duffy had said it would be worth it. Whatever that could mean, coming from this man. Wynn Duffy was a man with many layers, Devil had discovered that much. But he was not a trustworthy person, and Devil didn't like him. Really didn't like him much.

The memories of Stacey Granger had begun to fade, though, and Devil rarely thought of her. He did whenever he grabbed his Beretta, or whenever he had to pass through the area around Georgetown, or even when he had to use a shovel (which, admittedly, did not happen all that often), but outside of these scenarios, he was starting to process it, even forgot about it for stretches of time that turned longer and longer. And the animosity he felt towards Duffy decreased alongside these changes. Still the reminiscence of Granger would be there every time Duffy talked to Devil. That would never change.

Devil checked the time; it was past three. If he went to see Duffy now, even if he made it quick, he would most likely miss Nina coming home, and he liked seeing her face light up when she saw him. But Duffy had sounded like he was serious, so even if it was not worth Devil's while, it had to be important. Perhaps Nina would have dinner ready when he came back. That sounded like a plus to him, so he fought himself into a standing position despite his protesting back and got on his way.

The camping sites in Corinth were surrounded by dark, impervious forest, stretching out for seemingly endless miles and miles of woods. Another thing Devil couldn't look at without thinking back to that damned night two months ago, when he'd parked his truck in a forest. He couldn't even remember how he'd maneuvered his way through the complete darkness, and with a body on his back and a still healing gunshot wound in his side, no less… It was all far away now. Nina had asked him whether he would ever get over it, and he'd said that only time would tell. Maybe time was telling now, and it was telling Devil that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

Duffy hadn't named a specific address, but that wasn't necessary. Duffy's motor coach stood out against the other, more middle-classed trailers that stood around. Families were trudging on the fields and street. Devil could see a few teenagers loiter in front of a rather new looking motor home, the only one that rivaled the Wynnebago's shininess, and the kids shot him looks of contempt when he passed them. Devil flipped them off, not bothering to wait for their reactions when he drove past their little hang-out spot. He didn't really know what teenagers were into these days, but when he'd been that age, camping had NOT been cool.

Wynn Duffy opened the door to his motor coach before Devil even had the chance to knock, which was definitely a first; it hadn't been Mike to open it, and Duffy looked eager to see Devil arrive, without looking nervous at the same time.

"Mr. Devil, there you are!" Duffy grinned at him. "Come on, step inside. Have a cup of tea."

Devil frowned. "Uh… don't like tea."

"Oh. Coffee then?" Duffy half turned. "Mike, fire up the percolater, Mr. Devil would like some coffee!"

"That's not what I…" Devil shrugged. Some coffee couldn't hurt. "Some milk, no sugar" he said and stepped inside.

"On it" Mike said, getting filters out of a cupboard. Devil scratched his head.

"Now, ah, would you mind… explainin' to me just what the hell's goin' on?"

"I don't know what you mean" Duffy said innocently and sipped his tea having made himself comfortable on his padded bench. Devil slowly sat across from him.

"What d'you mean, you don't know what I mean? You're actin' like you been replaced by a doppelganger from the planet of Goody Two-Shoes, and honestly you're startin' to freak me out a little here."

"Oh, Mr. Devil, I'm just in a really good mood" Duffy smiled. Mike sat a cup of coffee in front of Devil.

"There you go."

"Thanks" Devil said, but didn't touch the coffee. "And why the hell would you be in such a good mood? Are you… high?"

"No, that's not it. I'm not in the habit of getting smashed, haven't since my days in the Army, actually, although I do remember it does wonders for your mood sometimes. But this, this is so much better." Wynn snapped his fingers. "Mike. Bring the prize."

"Prize? What prize?" Devil turned around confusedly and watched as Mike procured a large, seemingly heavily filled envelope and dropped it in Devil's lap.

"What is this?"

"Well" Duffy began. "Remember that cunt from a few months ago that you, let's say, removed for me? I think her name was Some Lady."

"Yeah…"

"And you did me a huge favor and got a promise from me in return?"

"Uhuh…"

"I am a man who keeps to his promises."

Devil's eyes shot up and down between Duffy and the heavy envelope in his lap.

"Take a peek" Duffy suggested. So Devil did. His eyes went big.

"Holy shit" he murmured.

"I KNOW" Duffy said. "It looks like a lot, huh?"

"How much is it?" Devil looked up at Duffy.

"80,000 dollars, cash. You don't wanna know how much I made with that whore house. This is your cut."

Devil blinked. Holy shit, he thought. Eighty-thousand dollars. He was holding eighty-thousand dollars in his hands.

"Wow" he said, dumbly. "That's… wow."

"Congratulations" Wynn Duffy grinned at him. "Consider yourself a rich man. Or, well, richer than before. Now, if THAT doesn't put you in a good mood, I don't know what can."

"No, you're right. That does kinda put me in a good mood." Devil huffed a short laugh. "Jesus motherfuckin' Christ, man. Eighty grand is a shit load of money."

"It really is a shit load of money, Mr. Devil." Duffy nodded. "Mh-mh, it sure is. Don't spend it all at once, will you?"

"Nope." Devil already had some ideas on what he was going to do with that money.

"Good. See, I already had to waste a portion of that money to send my sister and her wimp of a boyfriend to the Bahamas for two weeks – long story – and it would hurt my soul if you threw your share right out the window, for a new car or something."

"Nope, don't need a new car. I like the one I got."

"Yeah, right. Your haunted truck." Duffy looked through the window to see Devil's red 4runner parked just feet from his motor coach. He frowned. "Mr. Devil, is it normal that there are three teenagers in Hilfiger clothes fiddling with your hood?"

"What? Shit!" Devil leapt up and hurried out of the trailer. There were indeed a few of the teenagers he'd flipped off on the way here standing in front of his truck's front lid, apparently trying to pop it open. When he stormed out and shouted at them what the fuck they thought they were doing, the three of them jumped a foot in the air from fear, and in that moment the hood popped open and hit one of the scumbag kids right in the nose. The boy wailed and held a hand to his bleeding face. It only took a wave of Devil's Beretta to scare them away, and Duffy passed Devil his "prize" through the window and wished him a good day.

And a good day Devil had. It wasn't just every day that someone passed you a reward of eighty-thousand dollars with a cup of coffee. A coffee he hadn't touched, Devil realized, but really, there had been more pressing matters to attend to. Maybe Mike would drink it before it got cold. Or maybe they would just pour it out of the window, since Wynn Duffy didn't seem the kind of guy who had to worry about wasting edibles.

Devil thought about his own worries concerning money, and how these worries would be in the past for the foreseeable future. Sure, you couldn't retire on eighty G's, but you could relax a bit. Take a vacation. Maybe not to the Bahamas, Devil didn't have an anticipation that high. He didn't even have to return to Harlan for a vacation. It wasn't even a real vacation he wanted to take. He just wanted a break. Thinking back on the Donald Sartor Job and how shitty he'd felt in the aftermath (and wondering if the guy was still alive or had killed himself or gotten himself killed by now), Devil threw a look at the large envelope that lay innocently on the passenger's seat.

His cell phone rang, and Devil fished it out of his pocket while keeping one hand on the wheel. It was a mobile number Devil didn't know, but since it could always be Boyd or Duffy calling from another phone he couldn't afford not to answer, so Devil took the call anyway.

"'lo" he said, unwound by the knowledge of having eighty thousand in cash by his side. There was heavy breathing on the other end, and Devil frowned.

"Hello? Who's there?"

Silence, more breathing. Then:

"Is this Devil?"

"Yeah" Devil said, still frowning. It was a man's voice, sounding vaguely familiar, but for the life of him he couldn't place it. "And who am I talkin' to?"

"I… it's Caleb. Caleb Danvers. You remember me? We met in, uh, Keegan's flat? Three months ago?"

Devil hit the brakes and halted almost to a complete stop in the middle of the street. Thankfully, it was empty. "Yeah, of course I do."

What kind of a question… Devil remembered meeting Caleb Danvers clear as day. It had been the day Devil had been sent by Quarles to mess up the teenaged nigger druggie and couldn't bring himself to do it; and it had been the day before Devil had had to kill those two Norwegians, making it into the evening news without even being aware of it and meeting Nina without remembering. These days had etched themselves into Devil's memory like acid into wooden ground. He still saw himself return to the CAG flat and find Caleb and Keegan on the couch, Keegan having fallen asleep waiting for Devil to come back from his assignment, and Caleb still awake, but apathetic, staring at the muted TV without seeing a thing.

Devil had passed Caleb his number the next day, because the guy obviously had a lot of shit on his mind and seemed like a good person, too, so Devil, the people person that he was, figured it couldn't hurt. He had not expected Caleb to ever take him up on his offer to talk about stuff. Well, that showed how wrong Devil could be about things.

"How… are you doin', man?" Devil asked, for lack of something better to say. It was a valid question, too, considering the state Caleb had been in when they'd last seen each other.

"I'm not that great, actually." Small understatement, Devil figured. Caleb's voice sounded pressed, like he was in pain, or panicked, possibly both. "I'm, uh, deep in the shit. I need help. I remembered you'd given me your number and said, if I ever wanted to talk… I guess I wanna do that. Now."

"Oh… okay, sure, man. Shoot."

"No, not now, not, uhm… I'm kinda hiding right now. I…"

"Hidin'? Hidin' from what?"

"I can't really tell you, it's, I don't know if my phone's being tapped, but…"

"Your phone's tapped?" Devil frowned. Either the guy was on a bad trip, or he had every right to be this paranoid. Either way he was in trouble. "Jesus, man. The fuck did you get into?"

"I was sent to California, and I did some shit I really shouldn't have, and then I was supposed to… but I just couldn't… I mean, I, it's all I ever done, was KILL people, but-"

"Alright, alright, calm down, man" Devil interrupted him, getting a bit nervous himself. He wasn't exactly the master of managing crises; there was a reason people had created hotlines for this kind of thing. "Calm the fuck down. I'mma help you the best I can, alright? Where are you?"

"New Jersey."

"Okay. That's… far." Devil rubbed his eyes. How long a drive was it to New Jersey? Ten hours? More? He still had shit to do here. He had only met this Caleb guy once. There were no obligations for Devil in this. He could hang up now and ignore that a guy named Caleb Danvers had ever even existed, erase him from his memory. (Like that was gonna work.) Devil sighed. He knew this was bullshit. If the guy called Devil, of all people in the world, it meant he most likely had no-one else to ask for help. And Devil had offered it, freely. Sure, he hadn't exactly offered to pick him up from New Jersey, he had just offered an open ear, but… oh, to hell with it, Devil thought.

"What d'you need?"

"I… I need…" Caleb seemed to think hard on that rather simple question. "I need to get outta this state… but I can't go back to Kentucky, they're gonna look for me there… they're gonna be looking for me everywhere… maybe I should stay here, or… shit. I have no idea what to do."

Me neither, Devil thought. He tried gathering the facts. "So let me get this straight, right? You're in New Jersey, and you're hidin' from some shady folks cause you were supposed to do somethin' and didn't do it. And now people are gonna go lookin' for you, so you need to keep a really, REALLY low profile. That about sum it up?"

"Yeah." Caleb cleared his throat. "I'm really alone here, I don't know anybody, and I'm scared they mighta followed me, but… I just don't know what to DO."

"Yeah, I got that much. Okay, uhm." Devil thought hard. "I know you probably can't talk about that right now, but, what kinda folks are 'em you're hidin' from? I need to know what the fuck I'm gettin' involved in here."

Devil was pulling into the street where Nina lived now. He barely saw it, his mind reeling with what Caleb was telling and, more importantly, NOT telling him.

"I can't-"

Devil looked up then and didn't hear what else Caleb was saying he couldn't do and didn't know. He almost dropped his phone when he saw a tall guy in a blue polo shirt tower over Nina on the side of the apartment building.

"Look, Caleb, I'm really sorry, but I gotta go now" Devil said, rushed, already loosening his seat belt and reaching for the door handle.

"But you're gonna help me? Please. PLEASE."

"Yeah, I'mma help you get outta this mess, man" Devil answered. "I need to call you back."

Then the guy gave Nina a shove, and she stumbled into the wall, and Devil saw red.

* * *

Nina arrived home late that day, holding a photograph in her hand and continuously barely dodging run-ins with lampposts since she could not stop staring at it. It was a picture of Devil she had taken this Saturday, and it was so beautiful she just had to have it developed. The day had been sunny, and Nina had felt rather energized from its very beginning, waking up early and deciding they needed fresh buns from the bakery for breakfast, picking up coffee there, too, because she knew Devil liked it a lot, always claiming the coffee Nina made at home more often than not tasted either like gasoline or like nothing at all. Nina had to agree with him at least that the coffee from this bakery tasted like caffeinated heaven.

When she returned home the sun had fully risen, and Devil was standing in the front door, letting Felicity in. He was shirtless and bare-footed, and barely awake, yawning open-mouthed and stretching carefully, mindful of his aching back. He was wearing his sun glasses, though, which Nina thought was pretty funny.

"There you are" he said when he spotted Nina coming along. "S'wonderin' where the hell you run off to this early. I mean, s'not even… that breakfast?"

"Yep" Nina said, smiling at him and holding up the bag with pastries in one hand and the two paper-cups of coffee-to-go in the other.

"You're awesome" Devil said, and he said it so simply and honestly that Nina's heart melted just a little. He actually stepped out of the building, his bare feet on the cold asphalt of the sidewalk, and greeted Nina with a sleepy kiss. Nina put the coffee on the hood of his truck to give him a hug, pushing the sun glasses up onto his forehead. Devil stepped back, leaning with one hand on his truck, and blinked at her. "Not that I don't appreciate you gettin' me breakfast, cause seriously, I do. But why the hell are you up so early?"

Nina shrugged and looked up at the blue sky. "I dunno, I was just feelin' happy, and I didn't really feel like sleepin' in today." She turned her gaze back to Devil and took in his appearance in front of her: Leaning on one arm that was set on the hood of his beloved car, the other hand was resting on his hip; his undressed hip, at that, and she could see the still vivid scar of the gunshot. Devil was not looking at her right at this moment, blinking into the sun instead and seriously considering putting his sun glasses back on. His beard had grown a bit longer, as had his hair, and Nina was really starting to appreciate his tattoos, and… oh, well, he looked hot. Nina put the pastry bag on the hood as well and scrambled for her phone.

"Stay like that" she ordered. Devil gazed at her confusedly.

"Huh?"

"Stay exactly like that." Nina had found her phone and set it to camera mode. She had just in this moment realized that there was not one single photograph of Devil in her possession, and she really needed to change that.

"You gonna take a photo of me?" Devil asked. Damn, he was slow at catching up when he was tired, Nina thought to herself.

"Yeah" she said. "Now, smile."

Devil rolled his eyes.

"Come on, baby" Nina goaded him. "Think of somethin' nice… like, I dunno, maybe… me with no clothes on?"

That got a smile out of Devil alright, a small, dirty smile that made Nina grin as well. She snapped a shot at just the right moment, the one where the smile lost its dirtiness and softened up just the right amount. Looking at it later that day, Nina realized that this was the perfect picture to sum her man up: There was the car, which was Devil's most treasured property. Also the picture showed all of his tattoos, except for the eagle on his back, or course. And it showed the gunshot, which was a part of him just as all the other baggage he carried around without ever letting on how heavy it really was. And the smile. That soft smile that Devil only ever reserved for Nina, and no-one else.

Nina didn't find the time to get the picture developed, even though she wanted to, throughout the week. Today she finally was able to visit a drug store close to her work place and developed it there. It didn't cost her much in terms of money, but it took a lot of time, and she was only arriving at home a little before six. Devil wasn't there when she opened the door to the apartment, so Nina went downstairs again to check if Felicity was around and hungry.

It was a mistake to step out onto the street another time, but Nina only realized that when Nick suddenly appeared in front of her, seemingly out of nowhere, and immediately invaded her personal space.

"Nina" he said, and his voice sounded rough.

"Jesus. What the fuck are you doin' here?" Nina took a careful step back from him. Nick looked different; disheveled, which was definitely out of the ordinary for him. His hair was just the tiniest bit messy, and there was a stain on his shirt. Usually he wouldn't have left home looking like that.

"I need to talk to you" Nick said, sounding almost pleading. Nina wanted to just run away.

"There ain't nothin' to say."

"You can't just motherfuckin' LEAVE me like this! We had four fuckin' years, you can't just throw that away like it was nothin', Nina, come ON!" Nick yelled at her, and Nina snapped.

"I threw it away? Are you SERIOUS? Just get the hell outta here!"

"I was alone on Thanksgiving, you know, totally alone. Roger relapsed, he's gettin' high and, like, livin' under a bridge or somethin', I ain't seen him in six weeks. Please, Nina. I'm all alone."

"Look, Nick, I'm sorry about your brother. But that is NOT my problem. You fucked up and I think I told you I never wanna see you again, so just, get. The HELL. Away. From. Me. Do you understand me."

Nina was getting scared now. Nick was desperate, another thing that changed his appearance drastically. It was a new look on him, because, usually, Nick had everything under control or at the very least always liked to think so. He towered over her now, and his untidy hair gave him the guise of a madman. Well, that and the gleam in his eyes that said that he was willing to do anything to get Nina to change her mind about him.

"Nina, please, please take me back, I'm lonely, cheatin' on you was the dumbest thing I've ever done, EVER, please, without you I'm nothin'…"

It was speeches like these that had always made Nina change her mind in the past, when Nick and her had gotten into huge arguments, and it could have worked now. Nina felt a little emotion in her chest go "Awww" at these words. But it shut up immediately, because things were different now. SHE was different, and she had someone different now. She thought of the picture she'd gotten developed lying on the living room table and it strengthened her resolve.

"Fuck you" Nina said, clear as a bell. Nick's face twitched, and he changed in an instant from desperate to furious.

"How dare you talk to me like that, fuckin' whore!" He pushed her, and Nina stumbled back; she hadn't known how close to the building she was standing already and didn't expect the impact with the brick wall, nor its hardness, pain reverberating through her back and shoulder.

"You piece of SHIT, you think you're SO much better than me, huh? Sellin' yourself out to this white trash asshole from-"

In one moment Nick had been towering over her, hands reaching out to – shake her, hit her? Nina didn't want to know, didn't need to, really, because suddenly he was gone. Nina took a few seconds to understand fully the situation she was in, and by then Devil had already beaten Nick's nose into a bloody mass and was working on the rest of his face. Nick was lying on the ground, tried landing a clumsy punch, but Devil who was effectively kneeling over him grabbed his arm long before Nick could actually hit him and did some erratic movement that slammed Nick's arm into the asphalt. Nina heard the sound of bones breaking even through Nick's surprised scream of pain that echoed through the street. She blinked. Jesus Christ, Devil was going to kill him.

"Devil!" Nina shouted, tried to reach him. "Devil, STOP it!"

Devil didn't seem to hear her. He had one hand wrapped around Nick's throat now, who had stopped trying to defend himself and just lay there, bloody and defeated and only making fearful little whimpering noises, and drew his other hand back and punched Nick's face again and again.

"You think I'm jus' a fuckin' white trash asshole, huh?" Devil said, and his voice sounded so enraged Nina barely recognized it. "Then what the FUCK are you, man, huh? What" – punch – "the" – punch – "fuck" – punch – "are" – punch – "YOU!"

When he drew his arm back for yet another punch, Nina managed to grab it and hold onto it, and she pulled on it with all her might while at the same time shouting, "Devil, STOP IT!" practically directly in his ear. Finally, that got his attention. Panting, he turned to look at her.

"Nina…" Devil appeared to have lost his speech. Nina pulled on his arm again.

"You can stop it now, Devil" she said, slowly. "I think he got what he deserved."

Devil looked from her to Nick and swallowed. His eyes wandered from side to side for a moment, like he was confused and didn't really know what he was doing. His back had to still be aching a bit, Nina thought, and the knuckles of his right hand were bleeding and bruised. She recalled their big talk, how he had told her about the first stint in prison he'd done and why; he'd said he'd beat a guy into a coma in a rage blackout.

"Yeah" Devil rasped after a few seconds and stood up, taking a few shaky steps back. He wiped his bloody hand on his pants; other than the busted knuckles, Nina noted, he didn't have a scratch on him. She turned to Nick. He was lying there completely still and unmoving, and for a second Nina was afraid Devil had actually done it, had actually killed him, and she wasn't even sure how to feel about it; but then she saw Nick take a shuddering breath and spit something out. A tooth. Ugh.

"Nick?" Nina cautiously neared him and knelt next to him. "Nick, are you alright?"

"Biba…" Nick couldn't really open his left eye, it was swollen shut. His nose was a bloody pulp, and his voice sounded high and rather nasal. He was bleeding from two cuts on his forehead and one on his lip; there were finger-shaped bruises on his neck and his right forearm stood in an angle that was completely against the laws of physics. Nina marveled shortly at how much damage Devil had managed to do in such little time, and she could immediately believe he would be capable of beating someone into a month-long coma, or even kill someone.

"Biba… 'b hurppp…" Nick had to cough a little here, and Nina barely understood what he was saying. Devil could have very possibly broken his jaw, too.

"Yeah, you're hurt alright" Nina said and got her cell phone out. "I'mma call an ambulance for you, okay? It's gonna be fine."

"I lowe you" Nick blabbered, and that one Nina understood without problems. She knew Devil had, too, when she heard him growl and take a step forward. She didn't say anything, just held out a hand to stop him, and he listened and halted in his movements.

"Okay, Nick" Nina said. The hate she felt for this pathetic excuse of a man in front of her overwhelmed her. How dare he. How dare he claim he loved her and at the same time treat her like shit, cheat on her and insult her, push her into a wall and call the man she lived with a white trash asshole. "Okay, Nick. I'mma call an ambulance for you now, okay? But there's one thing I need you to know, Nick. Are you listenin'?"

Nick nodded, the one eye he could open focused on her eagerly.

"Nick. I need you to leave this place and never come back here, because the next time, I won't stop him, d'you understand me? The next time you come here I'mma let Devil kill you and watch and enjoy. Do you hear me?"

Nick's one open eye stared at her blankly.

"And if the polies ask you what happened you're gonna tell 'em you were mugged. If you mention Devil with one word, well, I know where you live. I can just tell Devil to come by. Do you understand? I want you to get the fuck AWAY from me. Get the fuck away from me and Devil, and stay out of my life. For EVER. Am I makin' myself clear?"

Nick nodded. His eyes were watering up, but it could have been the pain speaking.

"Good." Nina stood up. She was shaking, with shock and rage, but she managed to keep her voice calm. "I'mma call that ambulance now. Devil, go upstairs, okay? I'mma wait till the ambulance guys come."

"Wha'?" Devil was frowning.

"If they see you with your busted knuckles and shit they'll know it was you, did this. Just go upstairs, babe, I'll be fine." I think, Nina added in her mind. Devil eventually admitted it was a good idea and disappeared upstairs after parking his truck that he had just left standing in the middle of the street. Nick didn't try speaking again, and Nina was glad of it.

When the ambulance arrived and the paramedic immediately started taking care of Nick, the EMT asked her what had happened, and Nina told the little story she'd made up quickly; Nick was her ex-boyfriend who'd come by, why, she didn't know, and when she came downstairs to let her cat in, she found him lying on the ground like this. Her shaking voice gave it even more authenticity, and it wasn't faked. Nick didn't say anything, didn't even try to, and Nina watched the paramedics do their thing and load Nick into the ambulance. She went upstairs before they were finished and didn't look back.

* * *

The thing that Duffy said about Granger, "I think her name was Some Lady", is a quote from Jere Burns's role as Anson Fullerton on Burn Notice (and I demand credit for this because, to get a more complete picture of Jere Burns and hence Wynn Duffy I actually watched an episode of one of the worst TV shows ever made) that was just badass enough to fit Wynn Duffy's character, so I totally had to fit it in somewhere.

Now, another detail that probably none of you (or, mostly none, to be fair) ever noticed or thought about is the tattoo on Kevin Rankin's back. I have no idea what it is. The best view I could get at it was in the finale of "Trauma" and even then it was just a partial. TellatrixForever's suggestion was that, what with Devil being a racist and all, it might be sort of a patriotic eagle symbol or something. For lack of a better idea I just went with it. Since Kevin Rankin is no racist, I guess it's something else entirely. (Mr. Rankin, if you ever feel like letting me know, I'll gladly go back and correct it!)

Oh man. Like he's ever gonna READ this... XD


	7. Chapter 7

This is the antepenultimate (go dictionary!) chapter, and also the answer to the question of how Devil's gonna help Caleb out of his mess. The entire Caleb Story theme was heavily inspired by "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy" by John le Carré, one of my favorite books that I was reading while writing this. I only noticed how distinct le Carré's influence on me was until I was almost finished.

About the Military Discharge Lingo, I have no idea about the correct terms and phrasings. I know what a Section 8 is, but wikipedia told me that term is outdated. The PDR List indicates the (Temporary or) Permanent Disability Retirement List, another term snatched from the as always quite helpful wikipedia site. If anyone knows anything about this, do tell. I had to make do with the infos I had to fit them with the back story I've thought up for poor Caleb. Also, the term "PTSD-drop-out" is by no means meant as an insult.

No warnings necessary this time.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2

The Inside Woman

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

Devil had sat himself on the couch, his un-bloodied hand massaging his forehead, like he was trying to fend off an impending headache. He didn't quite know what had happened back there; he hadn't lost control like that in years. His right hand was pulsing in pain now, and he looked at it. A lot of the blood was Nick's (disgusting, Devil thought; I need to take a shower), but there was a cut on his outer knuckle, and it was deep, too, possibly from one of Nick's teeth. Generally his knuckles were all bruised and slightly swollen. The human body was a lot harder than it looked, apparently.

The flashing blue lights of the arriving ambulance reflected throughout the flat, and Devil just sat and waited. He really wanted to get that disgusting bastard's blood off his hand, but he just couldn't bring himself to move right then and there. He'd left the envelope with the money in his truck, only realizing it now, and cursed. He remembered Caleb and having promised to help him. The events of the day came back to him slowly. His mind had been a complete blank from the moment he had seen Nick push Nina to where she shouted in his ear to stop.

Devil couldn't have said how much time had passed when Nina entered the flat. Felicity wormed her way in behind her.

"They're takin' him to Frankfort Regional. He's messed up pretty bad." Nina shut the door quietly.

"Nina, I'm-"

"Don't say you're sorry" Nina cut him off. Devil huffed.

"I wasn't gonna. I ain't sorry."

"Good. Me neither." Nina fiddled with her thick brown hair. She stayed by the door. "'m just a bit… shocked, I guess."

"Yeah. Me, too. I was gonna say, I'm not sure what happened back there. I mean, I kinda…"

"Blacked out?"

Devil shrugged. "If you can call it that. I just saw the fucker push you, and I guess I… lost it."

"Yeah. I was scared, you know. Before you showed up."

"Why the fuck was he there anyway?"

Nina shook her head. "I ain't got no idea, I dunno what the hell's goin' on in that head a'his that he thinks he can just show up like that and expect… I don't even know what he thought was gonna happen. But he ain't gonna do that no more, I think."

"Yeah." Devil looked at his bleeding hand and frowned. "You didn't mean that, though, right?" God, he hated how insecure he was sounding; but he needed to know. "That you'd let me kill him? That you'd sent me by his place?" He had to swallow thickly. "You, uhm. You don't see me that way. Right?"

"Oh my God. You heard that." Nina was in front of him in a flash. "No, of course not. Devil. Look at me, come on."

Reluctantly Devil pulled his gaze away from his hands to look at her. Nina had tears in her eyes, and she was sorry about that, he could see it right away. "I only said that to scare him off, I mean, he's gon' be terrified of you from now on, and that's good, that's good for us, because he ain't gonna be comin' round here no more, but, Devil, no, I don't see you like that. I'd NEVER…"

Nina leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss in his uninjured hand. It was oddly comforting. "I'd never tell you to hurt someone for me. You are so much more to me than that-"

She came to a stop there, seeming surprised by herself. "God, Devil. You don't have to be sorry for nothin'. I'm the one who's sorry for sayin' that. I thought you knew I was only scarin' him. I know, I KNOW you don't wanna be like that, that you ain't Dexter." She smiled at him. "See? I remember. And I would never, EVER ask that of you."

Devil nodded, confused as to why this was so important to him, why he'd almost beaten someone into a coma again and still was the one who needed to be comforted now. "I weren't gonna kill him. Or maybe I was, I dunno. I ain't lost it like that in ages. I worked on that, you know. But he was lookin' like he was gonna, you know…"

"And he might've hurt me, if you hadn't been there, babe. And I understand." Nina rubbed her forehead, sighing. A normal day for her had gone to shit in a matter of minutes, Devil thought, and he was definitely sorry for THAT; but somehow the energy to say so left him. He leaned his head on the backrest and closed his eyes.

"Your hand's a mess" Nina said and stood up. "You need to clean it so I can see the damage."

"Sure" Devil said. He'd wanted to tell Nina about the money as soon as he got home; but now he didn't. It could wait.

* * *

Nina ended up dragging Devil into the bathroom to get rid of all the blood on his hand, to reveal the deep, tooth-shaped cut and the swelling and bruises. She cleaned it carefully and told him to sit down and put some ice on it while she went to get some old gauze she'd had lying around for ages. It was the best she could do under the circumstances. She would have made a quick trip to the nearest pharmacy, but the nearest one on East Main Street was not close enough that trip would have been as quick as she wanted it to be. She didn't want to leave Devil alone right now, and she couldn't take him with her, either.

Nina felt incredibly guilty for saying these things about Devil while he was standing next to her, especially after all he'd told her and how he did not want to be that person anymore. She'd just assumed he would know directly that she wasn't serious, that she was just trying to scare Nick off. Honest to God, Nina would have never expected Devil to be so insecure about it, so, well, HURT. Nina had really hurt his feelings. She couldn't remember ever having done that before. Usually Devil had a rather thick skin. But, well. What they said about assuming did have a point.

Later that night they were sitting on the couch, silent next to each other, Nina still feeling slightly guilty and Devil still seeming a bit upset. They watched "Law Abiding Citizen", one of his favorite movies (honestly, Nina only liked it for Gerard Butler's nakedness in the first half of the film), but Devil seemed to just stare off into space, thinking about other things. As the end credits rolled, Devil, without saying a word, just stood up and left the apartment, slamming the door behind himself. Nina looked after him worriedly.

"Devil…?" she said to the empty apartment. She thought about going after him, but if he needed space, she thought, she was going to give it to him.

He didn't, though, as it turned out when he came back not five minutes after leaving, and he dropped a heavy envelope in her lap before heavily sitting down next to her again.

"What's that, babe?"

Devil sighed. "Money."

"Money?"

"Yeah."

"How much?"

"Eighty Grand." Devil looked at her then and smiled a bit. Nina's eyes went big.

"What?"

"You heard me. S'eighty grand in there."

"You're shittin' me." Nina opened the envelope and took a peek inside; it was money in there, indeed, and a lot of it, too. She couldn't have said if it was really eighty-thousand dollars, but it could easily have been. "Jesus motherfuckin' Christ, Devil. Where the hell'd you get that much money from?"

"It was a job. I knew I'd be paid a lot, but I didn't know jus' HOW much it was gonna be until I picked it up today. But, there you have it. Eighty G's, girl. Shit."

"And what… what are you gonna do with it?"

He shrugged. "I's thinkin' that I could maybe, like, take a vacation, y'know?"

"And go where?"

"Nah, not a vacation from this place. Just from my job."

"You mean, a vacation from crime?"

"Yeah. What d'you think?"

Nina couldn't help but think about how many times she'd wanted to ask Devil for just that; take a break from this shitty thing that he called a job and that everybody else would have called crime that could get him arrested (and did get him arrested, too, at least once that he'd told her about since she'd met him), the most recent occasion when he'd come back home beaten black and blue shortly before his birthday, even if she later learned it was just a random gas station assault he'd fallen victim to like any upstanding citizen could have.

But the most prominent proof that what Devil did for a living would get him killed someday was another occasion, on a day that seemed to be just like any other day, but it turned to be anything but. She still remembered every detail about it, but the strongest emotion she'd had back then was simple, impenetrable fear.

* * *

_Looking out of the bus window, Nina huffed to herself in annoyance over Devil. That morning he'd received another one of those mysterious texts that would tell him to go somewhere and do something, and Devil would never tell her where and what it was. She knew he only kept this information from her to protect her, but Nina didn't even know what he was protecting her from (or, more precisely, who), so she didn't even know if it was really necessary. Nina didn't want to be nosy, something that Nick had always accused her of, really, she didn't want to be. But that she did not get a say in whether she needed to be protected from what Devil did or not, it annoyed her. Worrying was an every-day-thing for her now, with Devil in her life. She just hated it that he kept such a big part of himself from her._

_Still, she kind of felt bad for not even saying good-bye to him this morning. She regretted it now, being a bit bitchy about something that was supposedly for her own good. But nobody liked it when other people decided something for them over their head. _

_Devil wasn't home when Nina arrived, but she wasn't surprised. Most days when he received one of these messages, he'd be gone until night, sometimes even until the early morning hours. Hence she wasn't worried when he hadn't returned at around eight o'clock. Nina switched on the TV and watched some senseless crap. Her cell phone rang then, and she checked the display; it was Devil._

_Picking it up, Nina tried to keep any possibly lingering animosity from this morning from her voice, because it really wasn't that bad._

"_Hey, babe" she greeted innocuously. "Where are you?"_

"_Uhm" a voice on the other end said. It was only one syllable, and the voice was decidedly male, but that one sound was enough for Nina to know this was not Devil speaking._

"_Who's this?" Nina asked immediately._

"_Uhm. Are you Nina?" The guy had a much deeper voice than Devil and sounded kind of sheepish._

"_Yeah. Who the fuck are you and where's Devil?"_

"_My name's Russel. I'm really sorry I gotta say this, but Devil's been hurt."_

_Nina almost dropped the phone. Her body felt as if every drop of blood she had in it had just frozen solid. It was strange, she thought; every human on this earth is afraid of some day getting one of these "I'm sorry, but one of your loved ones has been in an accident; there was nothing we could do"-calls, but nobody ever expects them. These calls always, ALWAYS come completely out of nowhere, and it was so strange to Nina, because with things as big as these, with all the changes to your life and those of others they brought with them, there should have been some kind of premonition, some kind of warning, some kind of hint. But there really never was. You thought your brother was just doing a short ride round the block on his brand-new motorcycle and would be back in five minutes, but instead you got a call that he'd been in an accident and almost lost his right leg from the knee downward. You thought your friends were going to visit you in an hour; instead you got a call saying they had a flat tire on the freeway and one of those giant cargo trucks whose driver hadn't been paying attention ran them over, and your best friend was dead and her boyfriend would never walk again. Or you were sitting at home waiting for your boyfriend to come home from his secret criminal activities and instead you got a call from a stranger called Russel who told you that your boyfriend couldn't come because he was hurt._

_It was so random. And it happened so quickly, in just the blink of an eye. Nina was petrified, and she had to force herself out of her impending panic attack to listen to what this Russel guy had to say because this was really important._

"_Hurt? Hurt h-how?" Nina swallowed. "Is he in the hospital? Are you a doctor? Or a nurse? Where is he? What happened? Please…"_

"_Nah, he ain't in the hospital. Uhm, you know Keegan's place? That's where he is."_

"_Oh. He ain't in any hospital? So… it can't be that bad, right? Right?"_

"_Well, that's, uh… debatable. Listen, what happened wasn't exactly legal, okay, so I couldn't just take him to a hospital, cause, you know, they ask questions there."_

"_Okay, okay." Nina cleared her throat. So he'd been hurt on the job. Yeah, well. It shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did, considering his gunshot wound and everything. "How bad is it, then?"_

"_I ain't sure. There's a doc here who's lookin' at him right now… maybe you'd wanna come, though."_

"_Okay, sure." Nina switched off the TV. The building seemed to be shaking, but after a moment Nina realized it was just her. "Where is he? I wanna come, I wanna see him, and I wanna know what happened."_

"_Yeah, sure, course. Wait, I'll give you the address. Keegan? Dude, what's the street number a'this place?"_

_Nina heard a quiet voice mumble an answer to Russel and he forwarded it to her, revealing that Devil was only six blocks away from her, right next to the bar where they'd met. _

"_Top floor" Russel said. "The door's gon' be open for you."_

"_Okay" Nina said and hung up. She didn't notice she'd neither said good-bye nor thank-you. Grabbing her purse, Nina pulled on her shoes and took the keys from the nail next to the door, and she did all of that in a trance, because, this Russel guy hadn't said what had happened to Devil and how bad it was. He'd just said, Devil's been hurt, and that she should come. All fears and missing premonitions aside, that didn't sound too good._

_So when she arrived and found a rather unconscious, dead-looking Devil lying on a bed in a small room that Keegan called the guest room, and she saw the amount of skin that was covered in bandages on Devil's naked back, and the amount of blood that was not only covering his residual skin that someone had half-heartedly wiped away, but also the amount of blood that was soaked into his dark pants, it was entirely excusable that right then and there Nina had a small nervous breakdown. She was a normal girl from a middle-class environment, and the most blood she'd ever seen coming out of one person at one time was the time Nick had tripped in the cinema and accidently poured half his popcorn on some burly guy who looked like he was pumped on steroids and not easy to interact with on the best of days, and the burly guy punched Nick in the nose. Back then, Nina hadn't thought it possible that such a huge amount of blood could come out of a nose, albeit Nick's nose wasn't exactly small._

_There had been another incident, a long, long time ago when Nina was twelve and once again forced to spend the summer with her mother in the Green Meadows Country Club in Montana, and some kid had slipped on the edge of the pool and hit his head. There had been a lot of blood, then, too, but it had been so long ago, and kids are a lot less prone to be shocked by these kinds of things than grown-ups who are not used to them, simply because kids, if they're young enough, are not used to anything just yet. Nina had almost forgotten about it, and even if she hadn't, this was different. This was DEVIL, the guy she'd been living with for the last two months, and how could he still be alive when he'd lost SO much blood?_

_But he was still alive, as everyone present rushed to assure her. Russel, the guy who'd called her and turned out to be a really nice, really attractive, tall black guy whose voice had a rather reassuring ring to it, apologized for not being able to tell her what had happened, for her safety and the safety of everyone involved, Devil included. At that moment, Nina didn't even have it in her to be annoyed at that. She just sat with Devil the entire night._

* * *

The gruesome memory ran through Nina's mind like a short-lived nightmare, and she blinked, then grinned at him.

"You know what, Devil" Nina said, "that sounds like a really, really, good idea."

* * *

Devil slept in, surprisingly exhausted from the events of the last night. When he realized how late it was he cursed and scrambled for his cell phone; he still had a promise to hold. Caleb answered after the first ring, like he'd been waiting next to his phone for the last fourteen hours, and Devil felt sorry for not calling earlier. When he went to say so, Caleb interrupted him.

"S'alright, man, honestly I'm just glad you called at all."

"I said I would, right? So here I am. Now, tell me what happened, brother, and start at the beginnin', alright?"

"Okay, uhm." Caleb sighed. "The beginning. Well, I, uh, I mean, you mighta noticed from the last time we met that I'm a bit… war was… well, you know. I didn't deal with it very well."

"Yeah."

"So, I got a medical discharge, and I know people don't call it Section 8 no more, but really, that's what it was, they put me on the PDR List and wished me luck and then I was, you know, I had no idea what to do. And in a bar for Veterans I met this guy, turned out later to be Louis Baljakov. That was in 2009."

Baljakov had paid for a few rounds and gotten to know Caleb a bit, and then had offered the traumatized young man a job, and Caleb, who really didn't have anything else to do, took the offer, and because he did good and the money was good and because Caleb didn't know what else he could still be good for, stuck around. Baljakov supported him (if you could call it that) and paid him well, and Caleb made to be his right hand; he did everything that had to be done, like leg breaking and transportation, but he also did the jobs nobody wanted. He did the killing.

"I read an article on the train I took to Burbank the day after you gave me your number and then went to get drunk, about how someone had shot four Norwegian criminals out in the open in a park, and then I thought back to how you behaved and I thought, well, maybe he had something to do with it. Did you?"

"Yeah." Devil rubbed his nose. "Go on."

"Okay then. The call I got that day? Was from Baljakov. He'd sent me to Burbank, California, to help out some corporation whose product is 'getting rid of problems' for others. I think you know what that means. They call themselves Stephen Mailer Security, but, well. Security's not their business, at least not from what I've seen."

Stephen Mailer Security needed a helping hand in ridding others of their problems, and since someone at the top of the firm had known Baljakov from his time in the FSB and knew the guy had a hand in the Dixie Mafia in Kentucky nowadays, the firm had contacted Baljakov to ask him for someone capable, and Baljakov had immediately sent them Caleb. And Caleb had done the job well enough that Stephen Mailer Security had offered him a permanent job. And Caleb took it.

"Because I fucking wanted out of there, man, working for the Dixie Mafia ain't exactly doing wonders for your reputation elsewhere, if you know what I mean."

"Fuck if I don't" Devil murmured, more to himself.

"And the money was even better than with Baljakov, man, let me tell you. But, I thought, you know, I was gonna do something else than the one job they had me do before they wanted to permanently hire me. And I was so wrong. Jesus Christ."

The only thing Stephen Mailer Security (who did actually have a side arm for security service in their firm) needed Caleb for was the dirty work; the killing. Controlling, they called it in the firm. "Controlling possibly jeopardizing security details" was a fancy paraphrase for "killing people that other people deemed a risk to their own well-being", and Caleb was one of the few people who were responsible for that, and since the corporation had costumers in almost every state from California to Maine, Caleb spent most of his time travelling from one state to the next to kill people. Even for the most healthy of persons this was not a jocular pastime, and Caleb was going stir crazy, but he didn't know where to go if he left the firm; Baljakov was pissed at him for leaving, and even if he hadn't been…

"…does Stephen Mailer Security sound like the kind of thing you can just quit when you feel like it? Cause I sure don't think so."

"Nope" Devil had to agree. "Nah, it don't."

"See" Caleb said. His voice was shaking again. "Then a couple days ago I got this assignment to control someone in New York. Some guy who'd recovered sensitive information about something or other, they don't tell me shit about the guys I'm supposed to… control. So I got there, and man, the GUY was just a teenager. Pissing his pants at the sight of my Beretta, man, and I couldn't even THINK about pulling the trigger. I just couldn't."

"You ain't got no idea how much I get that." Devil was putting ice on his aching right hand.

"So I looked at that stupid kid and said, hide away. Don't know where, best you don't tell me where you go, I don't know, South Africa, or Britain, or something. I heard Scotland's a nice place to live. Just leave this country. Leave this side of the earth, because if I don't kill you and they find out, they're just gonna send someone else."

Afterwards Caleb had broken off all communication to Stephen Mailer Security, knowing he couldn't return because if the next job consisted of him being supposed to "control" someone again (and what was he saying, "if"? It was always just that), he was going to lose his mind completely. He also knew he couldn't quit, and that if the kid didn't tread very carefully, they would know what had happened directly. Any way this was going to end, Caleb was fucked. He'd holed himself up in a small motel room in Atlantic City, and there he had found the scrap of paper with Devil's number on it in his wallet, and remembered Devil's offer to talk.

"And I remember thinking, after you left, how ironic this was, because I hadn't had someone make me that offer, to just talk about shit, ever since I got discharged, you know. Ever since I could have actually used an open ear, there was nobody to give it to me. And then there goes that guy with the racist tattoos and the cousin in the Marines, and I've never even met you before, and you just give me your number."

Devil shrugged, even though he knew Caleb couldn't see it. "You just looked like you coulda needed it."

"I think I do."

"Obviously." Devil chuckled. "Well, uh. Seems like you've overcome your fear that they're tappin' your phone?"

"Well, I did actually sleep some last night and got rid of some of the paranoia that way. But, I'm telling you they're already looking for me, that ain't no paranoia, that's just the truth."

"Alright, and I believe you. These guys sound like they're capable of a whole load of shitty things. Now, you're in Atlantic City, right? You haven't moved?"

"Not in the last 48 hours, no. That's why I'm seriously starting to get antsy here, man. They could be tracking me down right as we speak."

"Okay then." Devil's leg bounced up and down as he thought through everything he'd taken in and looked for a solution to this mess. God, how he wished Boyd was here. But, well. He had to make a decision on his own now. Nobody to tell him what to do on this one but Devil himself.

"Devil?"

"I'm thinkin', wait a sec."

And then he had THE idea.

Devil punched the couch in relief. "I got it, man. I know what we're gonna do."

"And what's that?"

"I'm gonna come and pick you up."

"You're gonna come? And take me where?"

"Yeah, well. That's the part I'm still workin' on, but that's the only thing I can think of that's gon' get you outta the danger zone, I mean, right now you're like a walkin' target, right? So I'mma have to hide you somewhere else, where they'd never come lookin' for you."

"I can't go to Frankfort, man. Come on. It's Baljakov's backyard."

"You think he's gonna sell you out if he finds you first?"

"Who knows? He might. He was really pissed off when I left his team."

"Yeah, okay, but that Stephen Tyler Security thing-"

"Mailer."

"-whatever, they know that, right? That you left Baljakov high and dry for 'em?"

"I think so…"

"Well, then Frankfort'll be the last place they're gonna look for you."

"Well… okay, but-"

"Don't matter, though, cause I got an even better place in mind. Trust me, they're NEVER gonna find you there. I gotta make a call first, though. See if the guy I got in mind is even up for it. I'mma call you back in a few minutes, alright?"

"Okay."

Caleb didn't sound too happy, but given the circumstances Devil was right proud of himself. He searched through the numbers on his phone until he found the right one, and he hoped the person he was trying to reach would answer.

"S'up, Devil, my man?"

"Carlisle" Devil greeted him. "I need to ask one more favor of you…"

* * *

After the rather short talk to Carlisle ended, Devil immediately called Caleb back, understanding that what felt like five minutes to Devil had to feel like an hour to Caleb. If you lived in fear, time seemed to slow down, like you were in the first layer of a dream and couldn't wake up because nobody gave you a kick. Or shot you in the head.

The drive to the east coast would take Devil approximately twelve hours, and he made sure Caleb understood that. Devil was not exactly crazy about driving twelve hours straight, but what he really wasn't crazy about was doing a twelve-hour-drive through the night, and he made sure Caleb knew that, too. The good thing was, nobody but the two of them knew they were acquainted with each other, so nobody of importance would wonder why Devil made the drive to Atlantic City just like that, and that made a covert affair of driving at night unnecessary.

When Nina returned from work and found Devil packing a change of clothes and some provisions (a few bottles of water, sandwiches) into his duffel bag, she got understandably irritated.

"What about the vacation you said you wanted to take?" she asked.

"This is different, babe, this ain't got nothin' to do with crimes… well, maybe a little, it does, but I ain't gonna commit any crime. I'm just tryin' to help someone."

"And who would this someone be?"

"Ah, it's a long story…"

Nina crossed her arms. "Well, I wanna know."

So Devil told her the story of Caleb, leaving out or changing relevant names, but she got the gist of it. "And you wanna help him even though you barely know him?"

"What, am I supposed to just ignore him and let these guys kill him cause he couldn't off a pilferin' teenager? Come on. I ain't exactly Mother Theresa, y'know, but, well. He's a good guy. No need for him to get killed cause of that."

Nina shook her head. "Nah, Devil, YOU're the good guy here. Jesus Christ. If somethin' happens to you on that trip, I'm gonna follow you and kill you myself, and then I'mma kill this Caleb guy, too."

"Alright, I'm gonna tell him you said that. I'm sure it's gon' do wonders for his peace of mind."

"No, don't tell him, idiot." Nina threw a pillow at him that Devil expertly managed to dodge. "Come here" she said and patted the space next to her on the couch. He sat, and Nina fiddled with his hair. It was getting longer and longer, and he had asked Nina recently if she could cut it for him. Nina said she liked it when his hair was a bit longer, but she'd eventually agreed to do it soon, under the condition that his beard stayed. Well, they would have to postpone that until after the weekend.

"When you gonna get goin'?"

"Tomorrow mornin', round seven. I wanna be there when the sun's already set so that if there are really guys lookin' for him they won't see me comin'."

Nina heaved a sigh. "And you're gonna be gone all weekend then?"

"I was thinkin' of spendin' the night in New Jersey and that we'd head back Sunday mornin', so that we'd arrive back in Kentucky when it's dark here, because Caleb can't really show his face here, either. Dependin' on how late it's gonna be then I might only come back Monday, so I ain't gonna wake you." Devil grabbed Nina's hand and pulled it out of his hair. "Y'know, if anyone's gonna ask – and I really don't think anyone WILL ask, but if they do – you just tell the truth."

"That you sped off to spend the weekend in Atlantic City without me."

"Exactly." Devil leaned in for a kiss. "Not that I would wanna do that, y'know. Goin' there without my lucky charm's only half the fun."

"Oh, so I'm your lucky charm now?"

"Well, Funny did tell me you sat with me the whole night when I was all sliced up. I reckon that's gotta mean somethin', that I so totally bounced back from that, don't you think?"

"I never looked at it that way. I thought it was all you. But now that you mention it…" Nina looked at the clock, then placed her hand possessively on Devil's crotch. "Come to bed, then. I'mma give you somethin' to think about while you're drivin'."

"Well, that sounds nice."

Devil took off Saturday morning, just as planned. The radio and CD player stayed silent today, no matter how many switches he flipped, so he gave up trying when he passed Lexington. The weather was kind, not hot, but not cold, either, even though a dark layer of clouds covered the sky when Devil crossed Winchester, and it stayed until Morehead. Then the sun broke through the clouds and showed to Devil what a green country he was living in; the way he was heading consisted mostly of trees and forest. There were of course also crowded areas, like when he passed the Sandy River to West Virginia and remembered that not too far from here lived this mysterious blonde chick called Anna that had some kind of weird relationship with Wynn Duffy.

He took his first bathroom break here and ate a sandwich while recalling the strange encounter with Anna, and whatever the hell she needed illegally smuggled books for anyway. The box had been so heavy she probably hadn't been able to lift it by herself. How many books had been in there? At some point Devil left the civilization behind, driving solely through mountains and forests, on a highway that was called Jennings Randolph, which he found kind of funny.

By the time Devil reached the border to Maryland, noon had passed, and he stopped for coffee and fuel. From then on he didn't make another stop until he crossed the Delaware River and desperately needed another bathroom break. Henceforward he had reached the hotel where Caleb was residing in less than 90 minutes.

Devil knocked on the door of the motel room he knew Caleb was staying in, but it took Caleb almost ten minutes to bring himself to open it.

"Devil?"

"Yeah, man, it's me."

"Come on, get in!" Nervously Caleb looked up and down the dark hallway. The sun had set, just as Devil had predicted, and the motel was only sparsely lit, probably to save power.

"It's so good to see you, Devil, you have NO idea" Caleb said. He had heavy dark bags under his eyes and was as pale as someone with his dark skin tone could be. Also he had to have dropped at least fifteen pounds since Devil had last seen him. Quite frankly, Caleb looked sick and miserable. But, well, Devil thought, I'm here to change that, ain't I?

"S'good to see you, too" Devil said. "Glad to see you're still alive."

"Right back at you, man" Caleb said and then dragged Devil into a one-armed hug.

"I'm so sorry for this" he murmured into Devil's shoulder. "I jus'… I had no idea who to call…"

"Yeah, I get it. It's good." Devil squirmed out of the hug. He liked having people around, but he'd never been much of a hands-on approach type, and when people he barely knew wanted to hug him it always made him a bit uncomfortable, although he didn't want to show it to Caleb. The man had too much on his plate to worry about social discomfort, obviously, or he would have never given Devil that call.

"So, uhm. What's the plan?"

"I'mma stay the night here with you, and we're gonna get started tomorrow mornin', like say, bout 5 o'clock, cause I guess the earlier we're gone from here, the better. I thought we could take a break in Delaware or Maryland, y'know, have lunch, cause I only packed some sandwiches, that ain't gon' be enough for the two of us."

They sat down on a grimy sofa. The room was big for such a cheap motel, but the state it was in, Devil was glad for the darkness, because he had the feeling there were things sitting in the corners big enough to eat him alive.

"We should make that lunch break a long one, I wanna make sure it's already dark when we're reachin' Kentucky. No need for anybody to see you. You got like a hat or somethin'?"

"No."

"Then we're gonna get you one. If anyone who matters recognizes you we're both in trouble."

"Yeah, yeah, of course" Caleb mumbled, looking at his hands. Then he gazed at Devil, eyes full of doubt. "Devil, dude. I… I…"

"You, you what?" Devil frowned.

"Well, I'm just wonderin'. Why the hell you doing this? You don't need to, you could have just hung up on me, trust me, I wouldn't have tried you again."

"Y'know, that's a good question. My girlfriend asked me the same thing, actually."

"You got a girl?"

"Yeah. Met her the day I last saw you, when I went out for that drink, funnily enough."

"You like her?"

"Yeah, she's great." Devil thought of the Smith and Wesson knife he'd packed to be prepared for whatever might come his way, and he had to smile a bit. Caleb nodded.

"Good for you, man."

"Yeah. Well. Nina asked me the same thing, and I just told her that I could hardly leave a friend hangin', you know, which is kinda true, but it ain't all of it."

"What d'you mean?"

"See, this is some big deal, me bein' here and riskin' my ass for you-"

"I know, and I can't thank you enough-"

"-and" Devil continued, "I'd be lyin' if I said there ain't nothin' in it for me." He watched Caleb's face fall. "No, not like that, I ain't sellin' you out to no-one, you can trust me, come on. Calm down."

Caleb nodded, still scared.

"You know I'm doin' shit for the Dixie Mafia, we woulda never met if I weren't. I ain't workin' for Baljakov, well, not on a regular basis; hell, he even got me arrested once, the bastard, but, still it's a risky move for me to be here. Now, we ain't known each other for a very long time, and usually you'd only do this kinda shit for someone you're pretty close to, right?"

Caleb nodded slowly.

"So" Devil shrugged, "why the hell do you think I would take this kinda risk for someone I barely know? Why'd I jeopardize my place in the Dixie Mafia for a PTSD-drop-out like you?"

Caleb just stared at him, so Devil answered his own question. "Cause I ain't workin' for 'em, that's fuckin' why. I mean, sure, I'm takin' jobs for Duffy, or, I was, cause I need the money, and Duffy pays good when he'd in the mood for it. But you know I don't give a shit about him. I didn't give a shit about Quarles, either. I'm workin' for somebody else, somebody in Harlan."

"Boyd Crowder."

"Exactly. And you, you're gonna do me a big favor, and do the same."

"I'm what?"

"Listen, Caleb, if you want me to help you, you're gonna have to do exactly as I say. I'm your savin' grace, if I understand this right, so incidentally, so's Boyd. The guy I'mma be takin' you to tomorrow's a friend of mine, Kevin Carlisle, and you're gonna be stayin' with him and his mom for a while, just a few months, in Coxs Creek. You know where that is?"

"Uhm, no?"

"Good, nobody does, 'cept the folks that live there. And Carlisle's workin' for Baljakov, too, so you mighta even met him once."

"Bout seven feet tall, built like a tank, about as smart as one, too?"

"That's him, yeah. And, see, when I'm goin' back to Harlan – and I AM goin' back to Harlan, I just don't know when that is yet – Carlisle's comin' with me. Now, he's doin' it cause he wants to. You, I, well, I guess you ain't got that many choices left, do you?"

"So, let me get this straight" Caleb said, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes. "You're gonna hide me right under Baljakov's nose-"

"The last place where he's gonna look for you."

"Right. Hadn't even thought of it that way. So, you're gonna hide me with Kevin, and then I'm gonna go down to Harlan with you and Kevin, and work for Boyd Crowder."

"Yeah. I think we can use someone like you."

"I'm" Caleb had to clear his throat. "I'm not gonna kill anyone, not for Boyd Crowder, not for you."

"Dude. I know what you mean. You ain't doin' nothin' down there that you don't want to do. Boyd wants to kill someone, he's gonna do it himself, or find someone else to do it, he's got his ways. Believe me. You don't wanna kill anyone, I'm promisin' you right here and now that you'll NEVER have to do it again."

"Never?"

"Ever."

Devil held Caleb's gaze, until the traumatized, shaking young man lowered it to look at his fidgeting hands again. "Alright. I believe you. Thank you, Devil. I… I have no idea what I'd be doing without you right now."

"You'd either be still sittin' here, or you'd be on the run, I guess." Devil put his feet on the small stained coffee table and leaned back. There was mildew all over the ceiling. Devil kinda liked it; it was home-y. "Not that I'm totally objective on this thing cause I've known Boyd for ages and he's my friend, but, I think if you come with me, you got the far better deal. Baljakov ain't never gonna find you in them hills, and I don't think the Stephen Tyler Security thing's gonna look for you there, either."

"Stephen Mailer" Caleb corrected him. "But I guess you got a point."

"Course I do. Now. You got, like, a blanket for me, or somethin'? We might as well catch some sleep 'fore we hit the road tomorrow. A twelve-hour-drive ain't no walk in the park, I can tell you that much."

"Maybe I can drive a bit, too? It's the least I could do."

"Nah, you can't, but it's alright, I'll manage."

"You know, Devil. At the risk of sounding kinda gay, I'm so glad you're here right now."

"I know what you mean, brother. Now get me that blanket and lie the fuck down. Got a long-ass fuckin' day tomorrow."

* * *

I've watched "Law Abiding Citizen" and quite liked it, until the end, because the resolution was quite stupid (I'm not gonna spoil anything, though). Of course the view of Gerry Butler's naked ass didn't hurt any. (It REALLY didn't.)

The Stephen Mailer Security thing is an obvious shout-out to "Traveler", an awesome show; anyone who read the "Closure" blog by David DiGilio (and I think everybody who liked the show had to read it) should know who Stephen Mailer is.


	8. Chapter 8

In this chapter there's a lot of emotional, romatic stuff, so beware of that. The next chapter is gonna be the last one, and I'm gonna post it on Sunday.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2

The Inside Woman

* * *

Chapter 8

* * *

"So you see, he ain't really got no choice."

"But does he want to do it?"

"I kinda promised him that he ain't never gonna have to kill anybody if he don't want to, and that's what convinced him, I guess."

"That can certainly be arranged."

"And other than that – well, I mean, he's a bit screwed up in the head, but. I mean, who ain't, right, Boyd?"

"That is quite right. Who ain't. Where are you takin' him now?"

"I don't think I should tell you, Boyd. I mean, you know I trust you, but-"

"You don't wanna take any risks, I understand, Devil, that's a wise decision, my friend. You just do what you think is right. How's he doin', anyway?"

"Oh, he's nappin' next to me. Didn't get no sleep at all last night, I think. We're in the middle of Maryland right now, I think, and he's been passed out for two hours. I didn't get much sleep, neither, too afraid those mutant rats in that motel were gonna eat me alive. But he can't drive, so it don't matter."

"And you're gonna send him here alone?"

"Nah, actually, I's gonna take him with me when I come back. Whenever that's gon' be the case."

"You know, you ain't asked me that in a while."

"Yeah, well. What's the point, Boyd, if you don't fuckin' answer me."

"Devil-"

"Oh, but I ain't had the chance to tell you; I spoke with Duffy on Thursay. He gave me the money."

"The… Oh. The MONEY."

"Hell yeah."

"How much is it?"

"A shit load, Boyd. Really. Eighty grand."

"That… is a copious amount, son. What you gonna do with it?"

"I thought I could, y'know, take a vacation from… everythin'. Just… I ain't never had a break from this stuff."

"You mean criminal activities?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, Devil, that sounds like an outstandin' idea, I think you should follow up on it. When'd you reach that decision? Last night?"

"Uhm, no. Thursday."

"Oh. Well. So you thought, I'm gonna start a vacation from my illegal workin's, right after I've saved the life of a man I barely know by riskin' my own skin and drivin' 24 hours to New Jersey and back. That is rather altruistic of you, Devil."

"Altu- what?"

"You did a good thing there, son, is all I'm sayin'. You didn't need to save him."

"So everybody keeps tellin' me. It ain't just for him, you know. It's for you, too."

"I know, and you didn't have to."

"Just shut up."

* * *

Devil had to shake Caleb awake for them to have lunch in Frederick, Maryland. They found a barbecue place and Devil poured a large amount of coffee into himself to stay awake; he hadn't lied when he'd told Boyd that he'd barely slept the night before. He heard Caleb tossing and turning, and there were small, creepy noises coming from every corner. Somewhere down the street someone was playing loud music that echoed through the half-closed windows. A few times police sirens startled Devil out of a light doze. When he did fall asleep he dreamed about standing on a beach, and the sky looked like it was raining, and the beach was void of people and seemed to go on for miles and miles. He woke up when banging noises filtered through from the hallway and had forgotten about the dream in the morning.

Massaging his forehead to get the nagging headache out, Devil sat quietly next to Caleb and watched him munch half-heartedly on his burger; Devil himself had already eaten his, even though he had next to no appetite. His entire body seemed to be shaking from fatigue, and the lights around were too bright, like he was hung-over. Apparently staying awake all night didn't get easier the older you got.

They ended up staying in Frederick for two hours before hitting the road again. Caleb left the passenger's seat in favor of lying down on the back seats. He hadn't wanted any coffee. It took him maybe ten minutes to fall asleep, deep enough he slept right through the police control they got into when they wanted to cross the border to West Virginia.

"And where did you come from, son?" the officer asked Devil, looking at the sleeping Caleb with raised brows. He had to be in his mid-fifties, with a round stomach and a gray mustache, and he didn't look overly concerned or suspicious.

"Atlantic City" Devil answered truthfully and offered a small, tired smirk. The officer nodded.

"Ah, yeah. I get it. That were this happened?" He pointed at Devil's still bandaged right hand.

"Uhm, nope. That's older."

"Alright. Well, since you seemed to have spent the night partyin', I'mma have to ask you to do a breathalyzer, son. Just precaution."

Devil rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ. That really necessary. I kinda wanted to be home with my girl tonight."

"Sorry, son. And I'mma need to see some ID."

"You need his, too?" Devil jerked his thumb at Caleb. "Cause, y'know, he ain't slept none last night, and I mean NONE. He's really not doin' so good."

"Nah, I don't need to see his, son. Just yours." The officer winked at Devil. "Let him rest, right? He ain't drivin'."

"Thanks."

Devil passed the breath test, obviously, since he hadn't consumed any booze since Halloween, and his ID checked out, as well, so he got sent on his way without any problems, but the whole ordeal had lost them more than an hour, and it was late when they arrived at Carlisle's place, too late for Devil to make the 70-minute-drive back to Frankfort without waking up Nina in the process. Hence he ended up staying in the now quite crowded small house. Carlisle's mother, of whom Devil hadn't seen anything, had locked herself in her bedroom as soon as she'd learned that her son had allowed some strange man to stay with them. Carlisle had a bed room for himself that looked about the size of a broom closet, especially when he stood in it, the giant man he was, and that left Caleb and Devil with one couch in the small living room. Caleb generously offered Devil the couch and said that he would sleep on the floor, and Devil accepted gladly.

"I slept the whole day in the car, so it's really no big deal" Caleb said, and Devil passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He dreamt of the beach again, strangely enough, of himself as a child, on the only vacation he'd ever taken, way back when his daddy hadn't drunk so much and his mother hadn't been too sure bringing a son into this world was the end of her life. When he'd been there on the east coast in South Carolina, Myrtle Beach had been overflowing with people, of course; it was summer, people went to the beach. But in his dream Devil was all alone, watching himself as a child, sitting lonely in the sand and building sand crocodiles and sand castles and sand piles while his parents were elsewhere doing who knew what.

When Devil had been there the sun had been shining, burning, really. In his dream now the sky was dark with clouds, and it was raining, even though Devil could only vaguely see the rain. He felt it on his skin, though, the feeling was so distinct, so clear. On the horizon the clouds parted, made way for light, a bright orange, tinged with pink. Somehow, for Devil, it all made sense, like nothing ever had.

He woke up very slowly, rolling smoothly from sleeping to being awake, and when he blinked his eyes open, the first thing he saw was Caleb curled up on the floor in front of him, drooling on his pillow. He looked relaxed, for the very first time since Devil had met him three months ago. Even back then he'd had this rigidness to his spine, this crease of worry on his forehead (Devil had associated it with his time in the Army, he knew from his cousins these habits were hard to shake); and when Devil had picked him up and Caleb had dozed in the truck, he'd always looked distressed. The floor of Carlisle's living room couldn't be much more comfortable than a back seat, but Caleb finally looked like someone was supposed to when they were sleeping: Relaxed. Carefree.

Devil supposed it had something to do with the knowledge of being in a somewhat safe environment. Knowing he himself had been the one to give Caleb that knowledge back made Devil a bit proud of himself. The sun should have been shining by now, but the house was still in half-darkness, and Devil understood when he heard the low growl of thunder. Just as it had been in his dream, there was a dark layer of clouds covering the sky, hanging so low Devil thought they might touch the rooftops, and on the horizon he could see a little spot of light making its way through the gray to ring the bell for a new day. The entire house was quiet, so Devil silently collected his things, jotted down a note for Caleb that he would check in with him later this week and left.

The rain wasn't strong, it remained a light fizzle, more like a coarse mist, the kind that came at you from all sides and made an umbrella the most redundant thing in the world. So far it had been an unusually warm fall in Kentucky, but this morning it was starting to get really cold. Couldn't be more than 40 degrees outside, and Devil in his simple shirt who hadn't thought to pack a jacket, honestly, fired up the heater in his 4runner and reluctantly opened a window a small crack when the glass started to fog up.

Devil was positively freezing when he arrived in Frankfort. He knew Nina had to have left for work by now, so he was rather surprised to open the apartment door and find her cleaning the windows.

"Hi there, babe" Nina greeted him with a big smile, dropping her rag and sponge and wiped her wet fingers on the ragged brown t-shirt she was wearing. It was one of Devil's, several sizes too big on her, with an old blood stain on the collar that never washed out.

"The hell you doin' here? I thought you had work."

"Nah, the place is closed. Apparently there's an entire state's population of rats in the basement – I mean, I ain't never goin' down there, I know the archive's there, but I'm always findin' people to do it for me, and they ain't never seen ONE of those things. But, oh well. Paid time off's paid time off, right?"

She threw her arms around Devil's neck and planted a kiss on his lips. "So, how'd it go? That Caleb guy alright?"

"He is now" Devil answered, dropping his duffel bag to the floor. "Everythin' went fine. The weather's seriously shitty, though."

"Well, what can you do. Winter's comin'."

Nina picked up the rag again and drenched it in the bucket of water that stood by the windows. Devil scratched his head.

"Nina, you do realize it's rainin'?"

"Yeah."

"So cleanin' the windows is pretty pointless…"

"Yeah, well. I felt like it. Ain't wiped the place down in ages, and I thought, if I got the day off, I can just as well spend it doin' somethin' useful, like cleanin'."

Nina was wearing brightly colored cotton shorts to Devil's brown tee, covered in a psychedelic flowery pattern, and adding in the gray thick tennis socks she was one walking gaudy disarray. Her thick brown hair was up in a messy bun and her bangs were held back by a black elastic ribbon, and when she smiled at Devil like that, a strange sensation spread in his chest, one that he hadn't felt since his teenage years. Now, Devil might not have been the most emotionally mature person in the world, but he'd known for a while now that Nina was important to him and that he liked her and liked spending time with her and that having her in his life was a gift. But now, all that knowledge practically hit him over the head.

"Christ Almighty" Devil murmured to himself.

"Aw, come on, don't pretend you don't like it when the place is clean."

"Uhm, Nina-"

"Don't watch if it annoys you that much that I'm cleanin' the windows in this weather."

"No, Nina, that's not-"

"I know we probably ain't gonna see a difference, but I'll know it, so-"

"I love you."

Nina froze in her rant about windows and cleaning and the weather. She had her back to Devil, and he would have really liked to see her face, now that he'd just blurted it out like this. That really hadn't been his intention.

Nina slowly turned around, but her face was unreadable to Devil. She was surprised, that much he could say. Whether it was positively or negatively so, he couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw her eyes shine with joy.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me" Devil said, feeling pretty stupid.

"Did you mean it?" Nina shook her head at herself as soon as the question had left her mouth. "Of course you do, or you wouldn't have said it. Devil…"

"Yeah?"

"I…" Nina laughed. "I love you, too, you know that, right? I've known since that day when you got arrested in Athens and I had to pick you up. I've known this long, and I knew you loved me, too, but that you probably didn't know it yet, and – Jesus. You probably just realized it, huh?"

"Uh, pretty much."

"Devil." Nina shook her head again. "I knew it, I knew it."

And then she threw herself at him and kissed him. The windows didn't get cleaned any further that day.

* * *

Ever since that day, as far as Nina could recall, she had been walking about with her head in the clouds, because, holy SHIT, Devil loved her. Derek "Devil" Lennox, convicted criminal and (though not convicted) murderer, but also the man she'd been calling her boyfriend for three months now, LOVED her and she loved him back and this was new, so new for her. Of course her and Nick had gotten to that stage, after a year or so of so-called relationship, where he'd casually tossed out that he kind of loved her, and Nina, who had been really moved by that statement, had automatically said it back and only weeks later realized that that might have been a lie. Nina had never been IN LOVE with Nick Samberg. Nothing with him came close to the things she felt for Devil.

And what was special about that was, he actually loved her. No waiting around, no "kind of" in the statement, and most certainly, no calculation. The moment Devil said it, Nina knew it was true, and it still took her a few moments to understand that Devil had probably said it the moment he realized it, to hell with all consequences, and if that didn't make him a better person than Nina was because she'd known for so long and still kept it under wraps for the fear of scaring him off, deciding for the both of them so selfishly that this was best for them when all it did was appease her fears of abandonment, then she didn't know what else it could mean.

And THEN Nina had been scared that Devil would be mad at her for saying she'd known for that long and not said a word, but Devil wasn't. He was just happy. And that in turn made Nina happy. Really, she felt like she was walking on air. And now Devil was even taking a break from doing shit that could get him arrested or killed, and if that wasn't enough reason to celebrate, Christmas was not a month away, and Christmas time got Nina in a really great mood. Certainly that hadn't always been the case. There had been years, especially recent ones, where she'd sat around, staring at her slim pickings of poorly-chosen Christmas presents, and even when Nina and her mom had not currently been in a fight and Nick had actually taken the effort to be home at Christmas Eve, Nina would ask herself, "Is that it?"

It was common knowledge that if you were really looking forward to something it was very easy to be disappointed. And that's what it was; the entire world made such a big deal of Christmas, and sometimes Nina just wondered what the difference was between Christmas and every other day. Sometimes she managed to not get holiday-depressed and enjoyed it while it lasted. This year, though, everything was as perfect as it could have been. Turned out Devil wanted a tree, too, just a small one, and since Nina didn't own any Christmas decorations for it, Devil just brought home a big bunch of tinsel and then said he would make a short trip to Fort Knox, and Nina wondered what the hell he would want there.

Devil didn't give her a straight answer, but he came home that night with the most beautiful angel figure Nina had ever seen. It was made out of crystal-clear glass, with lines of real silver and diamond decorations. Nina asked if they were real diamonds. Devil answered they probably were.

"How much'd you spend on this?" Nina asked with big eyes. Devil shrugged.

"Fifteen-hundred bucks, and a bag of Keegan's weed."

"…what?"

"It's from Maine, and it was stolen, so you should probably keep it quiet that you have this thing, alright?"

"Oh… alright."

Nina wrapped it in a towel and kept it in a shoebox under the coffee machine. It was most likely the most valuable thing she owned, and most definitely the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given to her. And it wasn't even Christmas yet.

That trip to Fort Knox where the angel figure had come from didn't turn out to be Devil's only break with his promise to keep away from any and all criminal activities; a week after Devil had told her he loved her, the rat infestation problem was fixed and Nina went to work again, and when she got home, Devil wasn't there, and he continued to not be there until it was 7 am the following morning and Nina was about to leave for work, and Devil suddenly appeared in the doorway of the apartment like a visitation, covered in dirt and sweat, mud crusted under his fingernails. Nina didn't see or hear him coming, singing mindlessly along with the radio, and when she finally laid eyes on him she almost jumped a foot in the air from shock and dropped her favorite coffee cup. She'd just been about to put it in the sink; now it was broken into pieces.

"Jesus… CHRIST! What the FUCK, Devil?!"

"Sorry." Devil yawned and stretched, grimacing. "Had a, an, uh… long night."

"Yeah, I can see that. You do remember the last time you can home at this hour? And what you did?"

"Yeah. Nina. Sorry." Devil scratched his head. Bits of dirt trickled onto the floor like snow. "I, uh. This weren't exactly planned, y'know. Funny had a… problem. I jus' helped him take care of it."

"Did you kill anyone?" Nina asked bluntly.

"What? No!" At her insistent frown, he shook his head. More dust trickled to the floor. "I swear, Nina, I didn't kill nobody."

"Who did, then?"

"I… don't know who did it. Can't tell you nothin' bout it, sorry."

"Devil-"

"It's complicated."

"Talk slowly."

"I ain't sayin' nothin'. This is between me and Funny and Keegan."

And Devil never did actually tell her about what happened that night, and neither did Keegan, who was usually so talkative. In the end Nina was just grateful that Devil was physically fine, except for muscle aches the next day. Lord knew that hadn't always been the case with past endeavors.

That crazy morning had been two weeks ago, and Devil had stayed true to his word since then. No crime, at least none that she knew of, and she didn't know how many criminal activities you could practice in the time span of morning till afternoon. He was always home when she came back, clean with not a scratch on him, although sometimes he was a bit high and she knew he'd spent the day at Keegan's. It was Wednesday, 6 pm, and Christmas was less than three weeks away, so Nina had called Devil to tell him to order pizza for them (pepperoni and chillies for Devil, double goat cheese for Nina) and went to do some Christmas shopping. Or at least she tried. Finding the perfect birthday present for Devil had been hard enough and even though the effort had been more than worth it, considering Devil's shining eyes when he'd unwrapped the knife, Nina was fresh out of ideas now.

She knew he didn't read much, so books were probably out of the equation. He liked zombie movies, though, so maybe something like that would make him happy? That thought in mind, Nina found herself at Blockbuster Express sorting through the R-rated movie section and coming out empty-handed. Sighing, she checked her watch and estimated that the pizza had to be there by now, so she was about to hail herself a cab when she bumped into someone. Or rather, that someone had just conveniently stood themselves in front of her and she just ran into them.

Of course it was Nick.

Nick's nose was noticeably crooked now, pointed just slightly to the right, and there was a small scar on his forehead; his right arm was in a cast. Other than that, he'd survived Devil's attack pretty unscathed, but Nina who had experienced Nick's vanity first hand for several years knew it was a total catastrophe for him. He was still attractive, even more so actually because the faint crook of his nose took most of his boyish prettiness away and made him look more masculinely handsome. But Nina wasn't about to tell him that, and he probably wouldn't have believed her either.

"Nick" Nina said dumbly.

"Nina" Nick answered in the same manner, as if this was an acknowledged greeting.

"How are you…" Nina had wanted to ask him how he was doing, but since she didn't really care and didn't want Nick to interpret the question as honest interest in his well-being, she switched to the first thing that came to mind. "…your teeth?"

Nick cleared his throat. "They're okay. 'Cept for the two that are missin' and all."

"Shame" Nina said. Her breath was visible in small puffs in front of her face, it had gotten that cold already. "Well, I gotta go, so. Bye."

She tried side-stepping him, but he grabbed her arm. Nina rolled her eyes. "Nick, let go of me."

"Nina, come on, please. I just wanna talk."

"But I don't! I've been tryin' to tell you this for MONTHS now, there ain't nothin' to talk about! Jesus CHRIST, Nick, I thought you'd finally got it."

"Got what? Nina, I know that wasn't you that day, when you told me these things and that you'd let this white trash hick kill me-"

"Nick-"

"I know you were only scared because he was there-"

"NICK!" Nina slapped him hard across the face, since that seemed to be the only way she knew how to get his attention. A moment ago she'd been freezing, but now she was so enraged, she felt like her face was glowing.

"OW!" Nick looked at her, completely baffled. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because apparently you don't ever listen to me unless someone punches you in the fuckin' face!"

"But-"

"Nick, let me fuckin' finish or I swear I will kick you in the balls!"

"Okay, but-"

"You were right, I WAS scared that day, but not of Devil. I was scared of YOU. What were you gonna do, huh? You pushed me into the wall, that's the only reason Devil lost it like that. You looked like you were gonna hit me, and I was scared shitless."

"I woulda never-"

"NICK!" Nina shook her head at him, tears of frustration burning in the backs of her eyes, but she was determined to not let them flow. She was going to see this through, once and for all. "Shut the fuck up! I was scared of you, and I meant every word I said. I would have watched Devil kill you if I hadn't been worried he might get arrested for it. He's spent enough time in jail already."

"Wh-"

"I hate you, Nick."

"But I love you!"

Nina sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead in annoyance. "No, no, you don't, Nick, you don't know what love is. I didn't know, either, until I met Devil, because he really loves me, REALLY loves me, and you wanna know what, Nick?" Nina stared him straight in the eye, hoping, praying to whatever deity might be inclined to listen, that he would understand.

"You wanna know what? I love him right back."

"No, you d-"

"Yeah, I really do. You wanna know somethin' else? He actually LOOKS at me when we're havin' sex, as if he wanted me to have fun, too. He's NEVER been verbally abusive, ever. When Devil does somethin' wrong and realizes it, you wanna know what he does? He apologizes, simple as that. He doesn't hide his weaknesses from me, Nick, and the best thing about him? He's never expected me to hide mine. That's what love is, Nick, and that's somethin' you don't know about."

Nina wiped at her runny nose. So far she'd kept the tears inside. "Ergo" she said, "now that I've felt this, I'm never comin' back, not ever, even if Devil and I do break up at some point. You and I, we're over. Forever. Actually, we were never NOT over. Whatever this destructive thing was that we had goin' on, it never was a relationship. It was nothin'. You're nothin'. You're nothin' to me. So, please, fuck off. I never wanna see you ever again, ever."

Nick blinked at her in the cold of the December night. "You… mean it, huh" he said, slowly.

Nina huffed a laugh. "Yes, Nick. I really do mean it. Especially the part where I ask you to fuck off."

"I'm… okay. Then. Well." Nick frowned at her. "But I do… I mean, you're the…"

"Nick." Nina wanted to say many things, like how he was and would always be her first boyfriend, and so many other things, but she was scared that if she said these things Nick would understand them as a sign of her not really meaning what she'd just finally managed to tell him, and that risk she wanted to avoid at all costs. Hence she just shook her head at him. "Whatever it is, save it."

And with that, Nina turned around and hailed a cab. She didn't dare look back. When she arrived home, and opened the door to find Devil sitting on the couch, already having eaten half of his pizza and apologizing for it, because "I know we were gonna eat together, but, babe, I was fuckin' starvin'", Nina dropped her bag and burst into tears. Devil dropped his piece of pizza in surprise.

"…Nina? What the fuck's goin' on? You ain't mad cause of dinner, are-"

"No, n-no, so-h-orry" Nina sobbed and wiped her eyes. "I'm just… I just… met N-Nick and he-"

"Jesus H. Christ. What'd he do this time?"

"Nothin', Devil, that's the go-h-ood thing here" Nina managed through her tears. "He didn't do nothin', ad I think he finally go-h-ot it." She sniffed loudly and gave him a watery smile.

"Okay then." Devil wiped his greasy fingers on his pants. "Then… why are you cryin' again?"

"Oh, I don't know, I guess I'm just relieved." Nina rubbed at her eyes. She couldn't quite say why she was such a crybaby now; the relief she felt at Nick seeming to understand at least superficially what she'd been trying to tell him for months was very freeing, but at the same time she was worried he would never fully understand and keep harassing her for the rest of her life, and she was also worried about what that would mean for her relationship with Devil.

Devil obviously had trouble understanding her, even when she tried to explain, but he listened to her with all the patience he could muster and warmed her pizza up in the microwave when she calmed down enough to eat it.

It was a few days later, while Nina was rummaging through her closet to find her favorite winter-time sweater (cashmere, a gray-ish brown, from a second-hand-shop in Montana), that a photograph fell into her hands of her and her mother. The picture had been taken in summer 2006, on Nina's 18th birthday, and as much as Nina had hated the time in that damned country Club, that day had been truly wonderful. The weather had been fantastic, her mother had given her a silver swatch-watch that Nina still wore every day, and for the special occasion the restaurant chef (one of the very few decent people there) had treated her to the biggest ice-cream dish she had ever had.

Nina looked at her 18-year-old self that was smiling brightly into the camera and had one arm wrapped lovingly around her mother. It had been ages since she'd talked to Barbara…

Devil came into the bedroom, typing a text on his phone. "Hey, you remember that news report I was tellin' you about after Thanksgivin'? Bout that serial killer guy and how his name sounded kinda familiar to me? I just figured out who he is – I fuckin' grew up with him, can you believe it? His younger brother Bobby Joe and him lived in my street when… hey, you even listenin' to me?"

Nina kept staring at the picture. "Sure" she murmured.

"What's that picture?"

Nina sighed. "It's from my 18th birthday. Just me and my mom."

Devil crouched down next to her where she was sitting in front of the closet. "You look happy" he observed.

"I was. That day. She gave me this watch." Nina held up her left wrist. "You know, I've been wonderin'. Maybe I should give her a call."

Devil frowned. "You sure? From what you've told me you might be better off without her."

"No, it ain't like that. She's always been there for me. She's… my MOTHER. I love her."

"If you says so." Devil stood up. She could still see the doubt written all over his face, and somehow it made her feel defensive on Barbara's behalf.

"Yeah, I do say so. Not everybody's mom just up and leaves."

"And I reckon not everybody's daddy tries shootin' their son with a sawed-off when they tell 'em they ain't joinin' the Army, huh? Jesus, how many lies have I been livin'?" Devil added, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Nina, I know my parents were about as screwed up as they get, but I ain't talkin' bout me here. This is about you and that bitch who treated you like shit your entire life."

Nina gaped at him. "Devil!"

"I ain't gonna sugar-coat it, Nina. What she said to you, how she treated you, that woman don't deserve your love."

"But…" Nina looked back at the picture. "She's my mother. She raised me. She…"

"It don't give her the right to treat you like you're a fuckin' moron every time you see her. She does do that, right? You told me, for like, three months, every time I asked you bout your family, how your mother was horrible and always expected things from you and cut you short when you wanted to say somethin' and all that shit. Not that I'm an expert on mothers, but it don't sound like she respects you."

"No." Nina sighed. "No, you're right, she don't respect me. Never has. I wonder why, where that came from. I dunno. Maybe she wanted me to ditch Nick and marry one of those Country Club Snobs so that she could be a member there instead of teachin' them how to train their fat asses. But she's still my mother."

"You do what you gotta do" Devil said, "but, well. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Nina lowered the picture and looked at her boyfriend. "What would you do? If your mom ever wanted to see you again? Would you talk to her?"

"No." The answer was fast and decisive.

"Why not? She's your-"

"My what? My 'oh, right, I got a son, but I never wanted one and I thought it might be a good idea to leave him with his worthless drunk of a daddy'? That's what that person is and she ain't nothin' else to me." Devil looked seriously pissed now and Nina regretted even bringing it up.

"Sorry, Devil, I didn't mean to-"

"Never mind" Devil cut her off. He rubbed a hand at his side where the scar from the gunshot wound was, an unconscious movement he'd picked up when he was angry or uncomfortable and didn't want to show it. "I… I'mma need some air."

He left the bedroom and she heard the front door slam closed, sighing heavily. Parents, she thought. What a touchy subject for most people. Nina knew on some level that what Devil had said had truth in it; Barbara Romano WAS a bitch. But as opposed to Devil, who grew up without a mother, Nina had the advantage of having a mother who'd taken care of her when she was sick, who'd bought her nice dresses, and some girls would have loved to spend the summer in a country club, and it wasn't Barbara's fault Nina had never appreciated it. And if you had a mom, even if she WAS kind of a bitch to you, wasn't that worth a bit of trouble to keep up the contact? Barbara had even taken the time to take three days off from her summer courses in Helena Valley, missing out on three days of payment, just to have that dinner with Nina in August, and if that dinner hadn't happened, Nina would have never found out about Nick cheating on her and she would have never met Devil and…

Nina's decision was sealed as she picked up the phone and dialed her mother's number. It was Sunday, so she had to be home.

Nina's mother picked up after the fourth ring.

"Romano?"

"Hi, mom, it's me."

"Oh… Nina, dear. Haven't heard from you in a while."

"Yeah, I know-"

"I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience for you to call me now?"

"No, course n-"

"I mean, I'm your mother, after all. Is it too much to ask for you to call me on a regular basis?"

"No, mom, s-"

"I just hope you're callin' to apologize for ditchin' me in that restaurant just like that. The money you left didn't even cover the tips!"

Nina took a deep breath. Jesus Christ, she thought. If Devil could see me now, he'd be SO smug about it. She massaged her closed eyelids, trying to keep calm.

"Yeah, sorry, mom. I just-"

"'Yeah, sorry, mom' she says. Do you have any idea how I was lookin' when you stormed out like a drama queen?"

"Mother, I wanted to tell you somethin' I thought you should know" Nina said, not even trying to get into it with Barbara. She was already regretting calling at all.

"And what would that be?"

"I broke up with Nick."

"Oh. Why? I never liked that boy much. He looked nice, but he's very impolite."

"Well, he cheated on me, so, yeah, I guess you're right, that was impolite, too."

"He CHEATED on you? Dear Lord, I always knew there was somethin' wrong with him. I always told you he was bad news, Nina."

She hadn't ever told Nina that Nick was bad news; actually Barbara had liked Nick a lot because Nick was good-looking and had a nice job and could be charming when he wanted to. But Nina didn't mention it; it would have been an up-hill-struggle anyway.

"Anyway" Nina said, "I met someone else. His name's Derek. I just wanted to tell you that."

Nina had been wanting to break it off after that, hoping her mother wouldn't ask too many questions, but of course things never went as planned with Barbara, and Nina could have hit herself over the head for being so stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Derek, yeah? What's his last name?"

"Lennox."

"How old is he?"

Damn. First tricky question. Nina wasn't sure whether Barbara would mind her daughter dating an older guy, but, Devil wasn't THAT much older. Twelve years wasn't that much.

"Uhm, he's 36."

"What's his profession?"

The relief of her not minding Devil's age was evaporated by sheer panic at the next question, because, no matter Devil's open-minded personality and his ability to get along with almost anyone, if Nina told her mother now that he was a criminal, it was over. Barbara would probably start yelling at her through the phone to break up with that low-life or she would call the police herself or some other nonsense that would just put Nina under a lot of stress and pressure.

"Oh. His profession? Uhm. He, he's uh, he, uhm, I met him in… at work. I met him at work, yeah. He's new to the company." Jesus, Nina thought. Close call.

"Interestin'. And what exactly does he do there?"

"He, he, uhm, he talks to clients and stuff, he's very good with people. I forgot what his exact position's called."

"Does he make good money with it?"

Nina thought of the envelope hidden behind her closet. "He really does, mom" she said.

"Well, then I don't need to know the exact term. As long as he brings the money in I don't care."

You would if you knew the truth, Nina thought. The conversation went on for a few minutes, Nina managing to sail around most questions about Devil's origins and family, and ending it soon. Exhausted, she put the phone down and let herself fall onto the bed. A conversation with Barbara Romano was like half a marathon; but, Nina reckoned, in the end it was better to have that and have feelings about her mother than have nothing like it and have no feelings at all, save for life-long resentment for the idea of a mother figure. Of course there were the anger and the sadness at having been told that she hadn't been wanted. But Barbara could have walked out on Nina, could have left her in foster care or elsewhere, and she hadn't done that. And maybe, Nina thought as she looked out the window and saw the sky turning dark, that's as good as it gets.

* * *

I have to add: I love my parents, flawed as they may be, and they did a fantastic job raising my sister and me. So I really only have the second-hand experiences of a former friend of mine (whose mother is a total dragon) and my own imagination to go by while writing about Nina and Devil's crappy relationships to their parents. I still hope you bought into it at least a little.

The conversation snippet "It's complicated." - "Talk slowly." is a quote from episode 1x10, "A shot in the dark", of "Dark Blue", a run-of-the-mill cop show that I've watched repeatedly solely for Logan Marshall-Green (because the guy looks a bit like Tom Hardy, minus the tattoos, and the British accent). I won't recommend it because it, while holding a lot of promise, is poorly plotted (almost every episode), poorly executed (although not NEAR as bad as "Burn Notice") and poorly acted (EVERY episode), but for some mindless entertainment it's as good as anything, I guess.


	9. Chapter 9

And there it is, the last chapter. You may notice that this is basically just a collection of snippets, because I didn't know how else to describe the little time Nina and Devil have left in Frankfort together other than fitting it into episodical small stories. The last flashback Nina has is in here, as well.

There are hints at both "The Key to Every Door" and "The Wolf Mother", two of my other stories that take place parallel to this chapter, and I guess now the last line of "The Wolf Mother" should finally make sense to everyone.

I did notice while reading it back just now that this turned out rather fluffy, nothing I ever actually managed before.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 2

The Inside Woman

* * *

Chapter 9

* * *

Devil walked through the cool December air, hands buried deep in his pants pockets, and tried to calm his racing thoughts. He kept repeating the snippet of his conversation with Nina in his head that had brought him outside into the darkening streets of Frankfort, out of Nina's warm flat.

"What would you do? If your mom ever wanted to see you again? Would you talk to her?"

"No."

"Why not? She's your-"

"My what? My 'oh, right, I got a son, but I never wanted one and I thought it might be a good idea to leave him with his worthless drunk of a daddy'? That's what that person is and she ain't nothin' else to me."

It was the truth. Devil had last seen his mother when he was 7 years old. He wasn't even sure he still remembered her face, would recognize her if he bumped into her on the street. He'd been an only child and all he'd ever had in way of a family after his mother disappeared on him and his daddy's drinking went overboard were his cousins, and Nathan and his daddy Steve lived in Memphis, so it wasn't like he could just run and hide out with them. Hence, when people got fussy about their relatives, saying things like "Oh, I can't come, it's my brother's birthday" or words to that effect, Devil's immediate response would always be "So what?".

"No, it ain't like that. She's always been there for me. She's… my MOTHER. I love her."

"If you says so."

"Yeah, I do say so. Not everybody's mom just up and leaves."

The words had stung, and Devil knew Nina hadn't meant them as criticism, but like every child whose parents had separated, there was always that smallest grain of doubt that, maybe it was their fault. Devil had refused to blame himself for it, not allowing himself the weakness of questioning his mother's reasons for leaving. SHE was the weak one, and so was his daddy, and that was that; but you could talk at yourself all day to sound convincing, and sometimes it just wouldn't work.

Devil was walking south without paying attention to where his feet were leading him until he almost fell into the Kentucky River. He stood at the shore for a few minutes breathing in the crisp air and watching his breath come out in small puffs that dissolved into nothing. It was freezing, and Devil had only an old Army sweater (the only thing in his possession that had been given to him by his daddy) to keep himself warm, but he didn't want to go back just yet. The cold helped clear his head, and dusk had always been his favorite time of day. The sky was clouded and of a dark gray, and just at the horizon could a thin strip of sun light still be seen. A few minutes later even that strip was gone, and the only things lightening the dark of the night were windows with life behind them, and cars passing Devil by on the road.

The memory of a dream resurfaced, the dream Devil had had when he was sleeping on Carlisle's sofa, with Caleb on the floor not four feet away; of little Derek on the beach in South Carolina and the light at the horizon. Whatever it might have meant, Devil thought. If dreams even meant anything at all, maybe this was his subconscious's way of telling him everything was pretty okay right now. It was, kind of. Winter time was Devil's favorite season, and he had Nina, and he had a vacation from crime. All those issues flying around his head were issues that lay in the past and were not worth the time of day.

Devil didn't notice the snow until a snow flake planted itself directly on the tip of his nose. Surprised, he wiped it away; the next one, landing in his left eye, was harder to miss, and he rubbed his face, blinking. The sky wasn't gray anymore; it was a dark orange, and the snow was falling lightly, silently, in thin, small flakes that melted on impact with the ground, but mounted themselves on Devil's hair and shoulders. He ducked his head and shook himself. The first snow in Frankfort, and he had to be outside to witness it.

Devil quickly retreated to Nina's flat. He hadn't thought to grab his keys, so he had to wait in front of the apartment door for her to open, and when Nina saw him try and keep his teeth from chattering, she rolled her eyes and pulled him inside.

"Devil, you alright? You look like you're freezin'."

"It's snowin'" Devil said and shook himself again before he pulled off the sweater that was soaked with icy water now in the shoulder and back area.

"It is? Oh, that's a special moment!" Nina's face lit up. "The first snow of the year. Can we go outside again?"

"What? A moment ago you asked me if I was freezin' and now you wanna go outside? Babe, it's like, 30 degrees."

"I know, but, it's the first snow of the year and I always like to watch it."

"There's a window, you can watch it from here."

"I wanna be in the middle of it." Nina grabbed his (ice-cold) hand. "Please?"

Devil sighed a long-suffering sigh. He was going to give in anyway, and they both knew it. "Oh, fine. If I get sick, it's totally your fault."

"You ain't gettin' sick, Devil, cause you're gonna put on a jacket. Quick, before it stops snowin'!"

Nina was in a real hurry not to miss the first snowfall, but she did take the time to make Devil put on his warmest wool sweater and a jacket (and a hat, knitted by Ava herself for Boyd, years ago when Bowman had still been alive, and Boyd had handed it down to Devil) before she practically dragged him downstairs into the cold again with an impatience and passion that achingly reminded Devil of how young she was. He'd been that amazed by snow, too, once upon a time. Granted, he'd been a bit younger than Nina when he's lost interest. But that only undermined how big the age gap was.

Nina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I love winter" she said, smiling. Devil hummed.

"Me, too."

Nina had put on thick gloves, but she pulled one off to entwine her fingers with his, and she gave him a serious once-over.

"I'm sorry if I upset you with my talks about mothers, y'know. I was just… I dunno what that was, actually."

"S'alright. You got a mom, shitty as she might be, and I guess you can be glad bout that. Parents are just a…" Devil shrugged. "…a touchy subject, if you think about it, huh?"

Nina huffed. "You're tellin' me."

Together they watched the snow fall until their noses turned red and their hands raw from the cold.

* * *

By Christmas Frankfort had turned into a Winter Wonderland. Devil spent a lot of the time digging his 4runner out of the snow, refusing to let it get buried even when he wasn't driving anywhere, and that way he met a few interesting people in Nina's street that had the same problem with their respective cars; there was Gerry, a ridiculously tall guy about Devil's age with a slight Scottish accent who had lots of troubles with his jet black VW Touareg and wore the funniest stocking caps; then there was a young blonde called Bridget who had the gift of finding a sardonic observation to make about just anything while shoveling her small, old Fortwo free of snow; and a guy called Shayn who worked as a cook at a restaurant down the street and only barked insults at everyone while cleaning his white SUV. Also Devil met Christopher and Arthur and an old lady called Ethel. People just introduced themselves to him and seemed to think that commiserating in snow-shoveling seemed enough of a foundation to become acquainted. Devil, the people person that he was, didn't mind it, liked it a lot, actually, since it reminded him a bit of Harlan, where everybody knew everybody anyways.

Nina left in the morning when it was still dark and only returned when it was dark again, and she complained about the lack of sunlight, but other than that she seemed genuinely happy, and that in turn had Devil in a rather good mood. One day there seemed to be something eating at her, though, and Devil asked her what it was at least ten times, before Nina sighed and just told him.

"I just don't know what to get you. As a gift" she said and looked frustrated with herself.

"Babe, I don't need you to give me anythin'. Well, save for some food, and maybe a BJ here and there." That earned him a book in the stomach. Nina frowned at him. "Devil, I'm serious! Also, ew. Come on."

"Nina. Ow. I's kidding." He pulled the copy of "We need to talk about Kevin" from her grasp and put it somewhere out of her reach; there was going to be a bruise tomorrow, he was sure. "Not bout the food, though. Or that I don't need a gift from you. Seriously. Back in Harlan we didn't necessarily give each other gifts for Christmas, either. Like, in the year Lewis got his discharge-"

"Your cousin was in jail, too? Jesus Christ."

"Nah, I meant honorable discharge, from the Army, babe. The year he got discharged, he took me campin' in the hills on Christmas Eve. That was his gift for me back then."

It had been one of the best Christmas Eves Devil could recall; the year 1996, they'd driven to a flat clearing in the hills that Lewis knew was completely deserted, and they'd made a camp fire and roasted everything on a stick they possibly could and stayed up the entire night drinking themselves warm. Lewis had told stories, and Devil had listened, and at some point the clouds had even let the moon through and tinged everything in a silvery light.

When Devil was finished, Nina gazed at him thoughtfully. "That sounds… wonderful."

"It was. And, I mean, it weren't even that special, y'know? We did that a lot anyways, hikin' round the hills, sittin' and drinkin'. So, you really don't need to give me anythin'. Don't worry bout it, alright?"

"Alright" Nina said, but when she gave him a smile, he saw there was something on her mind still; but he didn't pry anymore. If she wanted to tell him, she would.

On the day of Christmas Eve Nina still had to go to work, but she was back home for lunch, and while Devil watched "Scrooged" with Bill Murray on TV and waited for Nina to finish the sandwiches, it started snowing again, thick, storybook-like flakes, and Devil already mentally prepared himself for some shoveling the next day. He thought of Harlan a lot. As much as he loved Nina and being with her, he was homesick as all hell, especially now, with the holidays directly in front of him. He even found himself wondering how Boyd and Ava would spend this night; Ava and Devil had never gotten along that well, but before Devil had pulled his moronic maneuver with Quarles, she'd tried her best at being nice to him. Devil knew he could have tried, as well. He just didn't like it when women told him what to do. Nina told him what to do all the time; but Nina also had sex with him. There was a difference.

Both Nina and Devil agreed that they didn't want to wait till the next morning to unwrap their presents. It was a stupid tradition neither of them had ever understood, so they sat themselves on the couch, the small tree with the glass angel on top (Nina had unwrapped it carefully just the day before and sat it on top of the tree with an awe Devil didn't think the thing was entitled to; it was just a glass figurine, after all) sitting next to the muted TV glistening in the flickering light of a candle Nina had insisted on lighting, and Devil gave Nina the present he had picked for her. (Well, actually he'd called Boyd about it, the only person he knew who had an idea about books.)

Nina carefully unwrapped the paperback and read the title. "'The Cider House Rules' by John Irving?"

Devil shrugged. "Yeah, I, uh, I called Boyd and asked him if he could, y'know, recommend somethin', and he asked some things about you and then suggested this one. I ain't got no idea if it's good or anythin', really, I just…"

"No, Devil, I think it's perfect" Nina said with a smile. "I saw the movie and I loved it, so the book can't be that bad, right? Thank you, babe." She hugged him. "You know, you could try and read it, too, some time. You might learn a thing or two."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, you'll only find out if you read it, Devil."

"It's got, like, 1000 pages."

"No, it don't" Nina objected and rifled through the pages. "It's only… 820 pages. That ain't long."

"Whatever. It's your gift, you read it."

"I will, babe." Nina rolled her eyes at him, but she grinned. Then she got up and took an envelope from the floor beneath the tree that Devil hadn't noticed before. "This is for you" she said, all smiles.

"I told you you didn't need to get me anythin'."

"It's just a little somethin' I thought you might like. Open it, open it!"

It was a standard-paper sized envelope filled with something soft, like fabric. Devil frowned, and curiosity got the best of him as he ripped it open to reveal a t-shirt, black, with… zombies printed on it.

"It's from Threadless… I know you like zombie films, so I thought I'd get you this. And don't lie."

Devil had to laugh as he looked at it. "That's gotta be the coolest shirt I ever owned, babe."

The food Nina made for dinner was epic (at least for Devil's tastes), and Devil wasn't quite sure how Nina did it, but she actually managed to convince him to build a snowman with her afterwards, and Devil wasn't even ashamed of how ridiculously much fun he had with it. The streets were snowed up, and while Devil and Nina built that goddamned snowman, the snarky blonde from across the street, Bridget, gave them a hand, all sardonic comments forgotten, and Shayn, the moody cook, passed them a spare carrot as a nose and then sat himself on the hood of his snowed-in SUV, sharpened his butcher knife and watched them silently.

On the morning of the 25th Devil was just about to get ready to shovel the mountain of snow off his truck when his cell phone rang, and it was Boyd.

"Hey there, Boyd, how's it goin'?"

"Merry Christmas, Devil" Boyd said, sounding exhausted.

"Sure, you too. You alright? You sound tired."

"Well, that may be owed to the fact that I am still foreworn from the events of yesterday…" Boyd sighed, and Devil frowned.

"Why, what the hell happened?"

And Boyd ended up telling Devil the entire story, of how Boyd and his Marshal friend ended up spending about seven hours in a cupboard in Mags Bennett's old store, and Devil was upset he hadn't been there to stop that from happening, even though Boyd assured him it had been his own and Raylan's fault alone and that there hadn't been anything Devil could have done. Nina listened to Devil's side of the conversation with worry in her eyes that stayed after Devil had recapped the events for her.

New Year's Eve neared rather quickly after that, and Nina asked Devil for more stories about Harlan, about how he'd celebrated in his home town, and Devil told her his best stories, of how him and his AB buddies had thrown the biggest hootenannies where more often than not the polies had to end the festivities and Devil had spent many a year's first of January in an arrest cell getting bailed out by Lewis and, later, Boyd. Nina grinned at that.

"D'you miss him?" she asked, and Devil didn't know who she was talking about – his cousin, or Boyd.

"Lewis" Nina clarified. "You talk bout him a lot."

Devil shrugged. "It's been almost ten years since he died. I guess I just learned to live with it. People die, ain't nothin' special bout it. I can't change it, y'know, so why fret about it?"

"Is that really what you think?"

"Not when it happened, I didn't" Devil chuckled. "I's devastated. But, it's been ten years."

"Right" Nina said and sighed. She looked at him and played with his bangs; she'd cut his hair recently, and running her hands through it seemed her new favorite activity. "I love you" Nina said, clear as a bell.

"I know" Devil answered. "Love you, too."

He still felt a bit awkward saying it, at times, mainly because he had not used these words in so long he could barely remember how they were pronounced; when he'd said it to Nina that first time a month ago, it had felt so alien for a split second Devil had actually been uncertain whether he'd just said what he'd thought he did. It got better each time, though. Nina sometimes looked like she wanted to tell him every day and then decided differently because she didn't want to scare him off, and Devil felt like shit about it because, Nina didn't need to hold back. She could tell him as often as she wanted. Every time he heard her say it, it still felt like a punch in the chest and Devil couldn't quite believe it. He was aware why Nina thought the way she did, though: Because after that first time, Devil had never said it again unless Nina said it first. Words evaded him more often than not when he wanted to tell Nina how he felt about her. It was embarrassing and juvenile, but he couldn't shut it off.

Devil and Nina brought in the new year at Keegan's place with a bunch of people Devil knew fleetingly, loud music and lots and lots of booze. At midnight Devil pulled Nina close and, since words as always evaded him, kissed her with a depth he hadn't thought possible before, and afterwards Nina hugged him so tightly he thought he was going to break a rip and said into his ear, quietly enough that nobody in the loud mass of celebrating people could hear: "I love you, too, Derek."

The party moved to the flat roof of the building then and they watched on as Keegan and three other guys put on an impressive show of illegal fireworks. Devil couldn't be sure since it was dark, but he thought he saw tears in Nina's eyes. He wondered what that was all about.

Most people left the party at 3 am, and the small group that stayed included Devil, Nina, Funny, the moody cook named Shayn from their street (surprisingly enough, Keegan and him seemed to have known each other since attending community college together) and a few other guys Devil didn't know the names of but had seen around the flat before. It seemed Keegan was even more apt to make friends than Devil was. They sat around the living room that was littered with confetti and discarded plastic cups and smoked weed and talked; it was there that Devil finally learned some things about Keegan's past. His parents had both been teachers at private schools, and Keegan had studied art in community college (where he met Shayn) and graduated at the top of his class and with honors.

How in the hell Keegan had gotten around to joining the Dixie Mafia coming from such a sophisticated background Devil didn't get the chance to ask because Shayn suddenly decided it to be the perfect point of time to show some of his knife-throwing tricks. It was probably really dangerous because while Shayn hadn't drank anything, he had smoked quite a lot, but he managed to impress everybody present and then left, looking his usual, moody self. At 5 am, most people had left or were fast asleep. Nina and Devil were left sitting on the couch, squished in between a sound asleep Funny and some strange guy who was most likely lying in an alcohol-induced coma, while Keegan strayed around the flat cleaning around them. Nina was playing with Devil's hair again. She had a contemplating look on her face.

"Tell me another story about Harlan" she asked, and Devil sighed because he was running out of those.

"Well, there ain't that many left." He frowned at the ceiling, rummaging through his memories. "I… well. It ain't one story, but. I just love how everybody knows everybody, y'know, you can't cross the street without bumpin' into someone you've met before. I know a lot of people hate it, but me, I've always found that awesome."

Nina made a non-commital sound.

"And how I could always step into Johnny's bar, and in the winter time I always had, like, ice-cold feet n' hands, and I always got somethin' to drink, even when I didn't have no money on me, not even a single dollar. Part of Lewis's ashes stand there, on the shelf. I's scared the asshole who stole the bar from Johnny would throw it away, but he didn't. If he had, I dunno. I probably woulda hurt him."

Devil hadn't noticed when he'd started to smile while talking. When he turned to gaze at Nina in the simmering half-darkness of the big living room, she looked very, very sad.

"Nina?" Devil asked, frowning. "You okay?"

"You miss it so much" Nina said, and for a moment Devil didn't even know what she meant. "Harlan. You still wanna go back there."

"Well, yeah, course. It's my home."

"Then you should just go."

"What, Nina-"

"Tell this Boyd that you ain't takin' no for an answer any more, Devil." She sighed. "I ain't askin' you to leave me, and I ain't mad at you. I just… I see how much you miss it. You're homesick as all hell and don't dare lie and say you ain't."

Devil didn't quite know what to say. Of course he was homesick. This was the first time in his entire 36 years that he hadn't spent Christmas in Harlan.

"And all I want is to see you happy, Devil, and you are happy with me, I know that much, but I also know you'd be a lot happier in Harlan."

"But you ain't in Harlan" Devil listed the obvious objection.

"Yeah, but you still wanna go, right?"

Devil wanted to, and at the same time he didn't if it meant leaving Nina behind. He didn't want to take her with him, either. Like this, with her at work in that little company, behind a desk somewhere, it worked because all she ever knew of what Devil did was what he told her, and while he'd given up on keeping secrets from her some time ago, it was still a big difference. In Harlan she would be in the middle of it, and he couldn't have that.

"Yeah" he said.

"I thought so. Look, I… we can make this work. I'll visit you, you'll visit me, we can figure somethin' out. We made this work, this batshit insane thing, so far. We can do this, too. But you miss your home and I hate it, as much as I want you all to myself."

They walked home soon after, feet getting wet in the snow as they found their way back to Nina's place in the darkness. A lot of drunk people crossed their path, all of them on their way somewhere, most of them coming from a party similar to theirs. The six blocks looked foreign to Devil, all of a sudden. Somewhere across the street the party seemed to still be going, and the sound of voices, laughter and the Pet Shop Boys echoed throughout the cold morning air as Nina huddled herself into Devil's side and words, as always, evaded him. He wanted to tell her that leaving her was a thought he could barely entertain without feeling his stomach clench.

He recognized the feeling as the one he'd had three months ago, when Johnny had called him to tell him to come back, and Devil had packed his things and tried to come up with something, anything, to tell Nina. He hadn't been able to think of something then. When Nina asked him if he wanted to leave she'd sounded so hurt, and lost, and Devil understood now what had been eating at her for a while; while the wish to go home was nothing new to him, the certainty that he was actually going to do it, and soon, was fresh, and shocking, and made everything shine in a new light. Meanwhile Nina had been aware of Devil's need to go back to Harlan, to where he belonged, for weeks now, and she'd kept it to herself for as long as she could.

"Listen" he said when they halted in front of the building, "I… I'm gonna go back. But not now. I mean, not directly. I'mma call Boyd, or send a text or whatever, but not now. Let's just… damn." Devil huffed, annoyed with himself for not finding the right words, and Nina smiled.

"I know what you mean. I wanna enjoy the next few days with you. Just a bit more time can't hurt, huh?"

"Yeah." Devil sighed as she pulled him inside. It started snowing again just as he closed the door.

* * *

_Nina mashed the potatoes like they had personally offended her. She was so full of anger and nervous energy, and instead of using it on something productive she had lashed out at Devil, and in turn he had lashed out at her. It was the first time ever he had yelled at her, and he had apologized immediately afterwards, and he wanted to talk to her, but Nina couldn't do it, not when the adrenaline of almost losing him was still coursing through her veins like a fucking drug. She heard Devil take a call in the living room, but she only caught the names "Johnny" and "Boyd", and some peculiar thing called "Limehouse", whatever that was. Devil was talking lowly, and right at this moment Nina couldn't care less._

_The meat balls were done, and so were the potatoes, so Nina mounted them on two plates. If she couldn't talk to Devil, she could at least make sure he ate enough. When she sat herself next to him on the couch and shoved a full plate in his hands, he didn't even look mad any more. He looked… sad. _

_They sat next to each other in silence until Nina couldn't take it anymore and went to bed, even though it was only 9 o'clock and she'd already made plans to take the entire week off from work so she could be there for Devil until he was doing better. But telling him so was more than she was capable of. There were moments when Nina desperately wanted, or needed, to just SAY something, but the words wouldn't come, her mouth just stayed shut on its own accord, because of wounded pride, or anger, or fear. Nina wasn't exactly sure what the cause was this time around; probably a mix of all three._

_Devil stayed on the couch that night, so he didn't notice Nina having issues falling asleep even as it neared midnight. She tried reading, but couldn't focus enough to enjoy it, and at some point she did fall into a restless, light sleep. It was a messy dream, she was in the bathroom and wanted to turn on the light because she couldn't see, but the lamp didn't work, and when she looked at the clock it said that it was four in the morning already and for some reason Nina thought, "I need to get into bed before Devil gets up" and wanted to rush, but she couldn't see anything because it was so dark, and she fell. Out of nowhere a hand grabbed her arm and Nina started into awareness._

_For a second she thought it was the dream that had woken her, but then she heard Devil's muffled voice through the door. He was on the phone again, Nina thought. She made the decision in a split second, before she could question whether it was a good idea to spy on him; on light feet she snuck to the door and opened it as silently as she could. Now Devil's voice sounded clear to her ear, rough from exhaustion, but unbelievably… relieved? _

"… _even know what he was sayin'? … Cause he's crazy an' old an' talks to people who ain't there. … Shit. I just… what do you want me to do? … Boyd. All this shit goin' on down there with you, and you just want me to stay here? I wanna come home."_

_That statement, pronounced clear as a bell and without the slightest hint of uncertainty or hesitation, hit Nina unexpected like a blow. He wanted to leave her? He wanted to go back to… Harlan County, without her? If he wanted to leave, Nina figured, thoughts racing along with her heart, he had to be planning on doing it alone. He had never even breathed a word of wanting to return to her, or anyone else, as far as she knew._

"_I do know that, Boyd. Just… shit. All this sneakin' around, workin' three sides at the same time, lockin' myself in the goddamned bathroom and pretendin' to take a shower every time I wanna call you, it's just… it sucks, man. Shit's gon' give me an ulcer or somethin'."_

_Nina frowned. Working three sides at the same time? Pretending to take a shower? Who in the hell was this Boyd guy? What was Devil doing when he wasn't here with her? Nina hadn't been aware just HOW clueless she really was about Devil's life. She decided right then and there that the time for secrecy was over now. If Devil wanted to leave, fine. But he would tell her everything._

"… _alright, I guess. Glad you ain't in prison again."_

_Nina's eyes widened even more. Some acquaintances he had, she thought._

"_Alright. Night, Boyd."_

_Devil put the phone aside and slumped against the sofa, his posture looking spent. Nina wished she could have seen his face. All she heard was Devil's heavy breathing and her own heartbeat thumping in her ears. She saw Devil lift a hand to rub wearily at his forehead, and she couldn't keep the questions inside anymore._

"_Who's Boyd?" Nina asked._

_She watched as Devil jumped a foot in the air from surprise with some measure of satisfaction._

"_Jesus Christ!" he breathed. "You scared the shit outta me!"_

"_Devil? Who's Boyd?"_

"_I…"_

_Devil opened his mouth and then closed it without answering. Words, as it appeared to often be the case with him, seemed to evade him yet again. _

"_You wanted to leave?" Nina inquired._

"_I… yeah."_

"_I think we need to talk."_

_Devil sighed and rested his head in his hands. "Yeah, alright. Alright, alright, alright." He waved at her. "Come on, girl. Sit yourself next to me. I guess I got some shit to tell you."_

* * *

Nina replayed that night again and again in her head while she watched Devil pack. That time, Devil had not left, and Nina had thought that was because this Boyd person had told him it wasn't necessary, and that Devil had been completely fine, happy even, about it. Now she knew he'd only stayed because he'd been told to. Of course, Nina wasn't blind enough not to know that she played a big part in it, as well. Devil may not have been the best in expressing himself sometimes, but she could see the way he rubbed his side and pulled the corners of his mouth down whenever they talked about him leaving; the way he would hold her tighter, outright stare at her when he thought she didn't notice.

They'd postponed it as long as possible, which turned out to be nearly two weeks into the new year. The vacation from crime was still retained, and Nina knew that, despite Devil having spent chunks of the eighty grand on this and that, most of it was still there, stuffed between the wall and her closet. Someone called, repeatedly, and one time Nina caught a look at Devil's cell phone, displaying fifteen missed calls by a person with the initials of W.D. and a few unread text messages by that same person.

The temperature stood at a solid 20 degrees, and the streets were icy. Nina and Devil spent most of their time together huddled into one another on the couch, watching lots and lots of movies via Netflix. Neither of them had ever seen "The Hurt Locker" before, and it blew both their minds, so when Nina suggested watching "Black Hawk Down", she was surprised to hear Devil decline resolutely; when she asked why he explained that Lewis had been part of that operation in 1993 as 27-year-old Staff Sgt. and had never wanted to see this movie on screen since he, in his own words, "had fucking lived it", and after learning that, Devil hadn't been too keen on seeing it either. Nina had to concur with that. They watched "District 9" instead.

When Devil did finally send the text message it was Saturday afternoon and Nina was cutting Keegan's hair in the bathroom of his CAG flat. She heard his cell phone ring, and then some yelling about "How in the FUCK could you be so motherfuckin' blind, man!?" and other things along that line, so Nina figured something else had happened to Boyd that had to have been rather unfortunate and now Devil was berating him about it. She didn't know the exact outcome of that conversation until she finished trimming Keegan's (rather unkempt) mess of dark brown hair to shoulder length and entered the living room to let Keegan clean the bathroom up, and she caught Devil saying "Tell Caleb, and pack up. We're goin'. Tonight" into his phone.

"So I guess that means you're leavin'" Nina said when Devil hung up. He turned to her and nodded.

"Yeah, this time for real." He sounded like he himself didn't quite believe it yet.

"And Boyd changed his mind, just like that?"

"He said he didn't see the point in sayin' no this time, whatever that's supposed to mean."

It was dark, and snowing again, by the time Devil was ready to leave. Nina still made dinner for two because she wanted Devil to eat before he left.

"Why d'you have to go at night again?"

"Cause Caleb can't really show his face round here, babe. If one wrong guy sees him, we're screwed, so I figured it's safer in the dark."

"And you're gonna go and pick him and this other guy up?"

"Yeah, Carlisle. Then it's off to… home." Devil smiled suddenly, so brightly it lit his face up.

"You're happy bout it" Nina observed. She wasn't angry, or hurt, that he was now eager to leave. She was just sad.

"Yeah, sorta." Devil's smile dropped. "I'mma fuckin' miss you, though."

"Me, too, Devil." Nina couldn't stop her voice from shaking, and she didn't want to, either. "God, me, too."

Devil pulled her to him and kissed her. They stayed entwined for long minutes, and Nina tried to memorize everything there was to Devil's body; its warmth, its edges and soft spots, its smell, its texture, its scars; she ran her fingers through his hair, a favorite pastime of hers, knowing this was the last chance she would have to do so for the foreseeable future. It was an unspoken fact that with his return to Harlan his vacation was over. The envelope was one of the first things Devil had put into his duffel bag, after taking a bunch of notes out of it and pressing them into Nina's hands.

"That should cover my half of the rent for the next while" he said while handing her 5,000 dollars; and then he took out another 5,000 and put them on the living room table.

"Just in case" he said.

The Smith and Wesson knife went into the bag, as well. Nina made sure he wore that wool hat of his that was an ugly dark moss-green color, but apparently very warm, and she also made sure it covered his ears. They walked outside together and stood in the snow next to the 4runner. Nina hadn't bothered putting on a jacket, so she was freezing.

"I'm, uh, sorry, y'know" Devil said.

"What for?"

"That I didn't tell you earlier that I was gonna go back. I just never expected…" Devil made a face. "To find someone like you. There, I said it."

Nina grinned like a fool. "Aw, baby."

"I mean, I woulda never survived this shit if it weren't for you. I might not've wanted to come to Frankfort, but I reckon I got more out of it than I thought."

"And you ain't solely talkin' bout the cash in your bag, right?"

"Nope, not solely."

They hugged, and Nina made Devil promise to call when he arrived in Harlan, no matter how late it was going to be. He promised. It took them seemingly forever to let go of each other. Devil eventually drove into the dark, and Nina looked on until the truck's tail lights disappeared. Going upstairs again, she let Felicity in, who shook her small paws, appalled at the snow. Nina brewed herself some coffee, determined to stay up until Devil called. The 10,000 dollars lay on her couch table, in plain view, so Nina put them in another envelope and hid them behind her closet; afterwards she sat herself on the couch, clasping the coffee cup and marveling at how empty the apartment was all of a sudden.

It might have been true that Devil had never wanted to come to Frankfort, but in the end, Nina and Devil both had gotten a lot more out of it than they'd ever expected; there was still a good bit they didn't even know about yet. Nina's life, at least, was now significantly different than before she'd met Devil; and as far as she was concerned, this batshit insane thing was far from over.

There was still a lot more to come.

* * *

THE END (of Part 2)

* * *

What's left to explain...

The character of the moody cook called Shayn was borrowed from Fatih Akin's fantastic movie "Soul Kitchen" that most of you probably have never even heard of because Fatih Akin is of Turkish-German decent and only makes German movies, as far as I know. You might have heard of him because he participated in "New York, I love you".

About the weather - well, I did research the average temperatures in a Kentucky winter, but I didn't think to research the average snowfall until after I'd written this, and then it was too late to change. I know, idiot me. According to what I came up with in my belated research, the snowfall is a lot less than what I described here. Sorry for that avoidable inaccuracy. I just went with the last few winters in Germany to feel myself into the atmosphere.

And about appropriate Christmas-y atmosphere - do you have any idea what a mindfuck it is to write about Christmas in September? I got totally in the mood and shit, listened to Christmas music and everything, and then I looked out the window and remembered it's September and Christmas is still months away! What a disappointment. Jesus. And when my father and me went to buy new carpet yesterday the store we were at played "Do they know it's Christmas" in the background. Too confusing.

Anyway. I absolutely love "The Cider House Rules", mainly because it's just a beautiful story, but also because John Irving is kind of my hero. Also I am totally aware of the irony of Boyd suggesting this book as a gift to anyone, what with him and his swastika and yadda yadda yadda. We do all know, though, that his racism has only ever been an act and that he just knows about literature.

Part 3 is already in planning, has been, in fact, since I started Part 1, but, and this is actually good news, I'm going back to University, for real this time, starting tomorrow. That I'm gonna take it seriously this time around entails that I won't have time to write, as terrible as that may be. The next chance I'll get to properly get to writing is in February, so don't wait up for Part 3 until next year. Sorry. I am collecting infos on a small one-chap backstory for Devil, though, so there's that.

Thank you all for reading!


End file.
